


Forever

by starksparker



Category: tom holland - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, PTSD, Smut, Violence, a walk to remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 107,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksparker/pseuds/starksparker
Summary: What happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who’s his opposite? And what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?Based off A Walk To Remember





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on my Tumblr and Wattpad (starksparker)

Tom opened one eye as he groaned, his head pounding like a thousand hammers. He looked to his nightstand to find his phone not there. Someone shifted beside him, nearly scaring him out of the bed until he remembered the night prior. A smirk crossed his face and he looked the redhead over, still tangled in his blue sheets. He shook his head and got up, grabbing his jeans from the night prior to discover his phone nearly dead and the time.

“Fuck’s sake.” He scoffed under his breath. “Hey, get out.” Tom raised his voice, staring at the girl but she barely moved. With the role of his eyes, he picked up her shirt from the night prior and tossed it at her. She stirred awake and her eyes fell on Tom, him standing at the end of the end. “Out. I’ve got work.”

“What?” She asks, her voice confused and a bit hurt.

“Out.” Tom repeats, his eyes widening as he plucked a shirt from his laundry basket, checking to see if it smelled fine.

“Just like that, you’re kicking me out?” She questions clearly offended.

“That’s how one-night stands working, babe.” Tom retorts.

Her jaw slightly hangs as she tosses her shirt over her head. “Yeah, but a little common decency would be nice, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t tell me your name, what do you think?” He challenges once he’s finished putting on his dress slacks on.

“You’re a real ass.”

“You were saying, sorry, screaming a different story last night.”

“Wow.” She says while he slides on her skirt from the night before, standing feet away from Tom.

“Yeah, wow. Bye.” Tom blinks, gesturing of the door.

“I’m going, calm down.” She responds, grabbing her clutch from the white carpeted floor. “Unbelievable.” She scoffs as she looks Tom up and down before leaving his room.

Tom doesn’t follow her out, rather he heads to the bathroom. He quickly brushes his teeth before tossing more gel through his hair in an attempt to make him look a little more put together. But, it doesn’t work. His eyes are still bloodshot from the night before, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days which to be fair, he hasn’t. His hair definitely needs to be washed and so does the shirt he’s wearing but there’s no time for any of that. If he were late to his job one more time, he was going to lose it and he was already late.

Tom made his way to work, his head wanting to explode the entire time. Morning traffic definitely didn’t help. He was beyond annoyed and hungover and having to sit behind a bunch cars that were just making him later, did nothing but make him want to punch through his window. He yelled, then yelled more from the pressure in his head. And yet, not once questioning his decisions. Instead, he blames the world.

“You are not hungover.” Tom’s best friend, Harrison, says as Tom entered the office.

“Don’t.” Tom mumbles, walking to his desk.

“You’re fucked. I’ve been trying to cover for your dumbass but Ellis isn’t having it.” Harrison follows Tom, taking a seat at his own desk.

“Fuck off.” Tom groans, taking a seat. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, three hours late.” Harrison huffs. “Seriously? What part of you needing this job are you not getting? I pulled every string for you and you’re fucking it up.”

“Are ya gonna continue to lecture me or you gonna leave me the hell alone?”

“I’m your best friend, mate. What do you think?”

“Best friend, well, leave me the hell alone then.” Tom rolls his eyes before looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Incoming.” Harrison remarks, looking back to his own screen and pretending to be busy.

Tom looks up only to be met with Ellis, his boss, coming towards him. Slick black suit, well-tailored, but a scowl was etched across his face. Harrison did pull quite a few strings to get Tom the job at one of New York’s finest publishing companies but Tom, he can’t seem to stay on his feet long enough to even make Ellis think Harrison wasn’t bullshitting him. Harrison promised Tom was a good worker, never late, always respectful, tedious, organized. Harrison lied out of his ass and Tom couldn’t owe him the decency to try. Tom had a bit of a problem when it came to temptations.

“Can I see you in my office?” Ellis asks once he reaches Tom’s desk.

“Sure thing.” Tom says, calmly, Harrison carefully eyeing him from his desk.

Ellis walks Tom to his large black and silver office. It matched the put together man quite well. It was clear he’d worked his ass off in order to have that office. It was something Tom almost envied. Just almost.

“You’re late, again.” Ellis says.

“Sorry, my alarm didn’t go off.” Tom didn’t lie. His alarm didn’t go off but that’s because he didn’t set it.

“That’s the third time this week. This month alone you’ve been late ten times.” Tom nods in response, his jaw threatening to clench. “I gave you plenty of chances and truthfully, I only did because you had an outstanding resume but-”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fired, right?” Tom cuts him off.

“You can collect your things and you’ll be paid for the next two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t like this job anyway.” Tom scowls before turning on his heels, nearly yanking the door to the office off of its hinges.

Tom angrily goes to his desk and starts to gather the few things he actually held there. “Don’t fuckin’ start.” He shoots Harrison a quick glare.

“Maybe-”

“Find something else. This job is shit.” Tom grits his teeth.

“I’ll come by after, ya?”

“Don’t bother.” Tom says, starting to walk off.

“You aren’t really going again.”

“Don’t have to get up in the morning.” Tom smirks, turning his back to his friend.

Sure he got fired but he figured that he’s charming enough to get another one. It won’t pay nearly as well but he wasn’t too concerned with that, not at the moment. He’d manage and he would still, technically, be able to put the publishing company down as a previous job plus, he knew Harrison was a good reference. At least, he figured he would be. Harrison has never let him down before but that’s likely part of Tom’s problem.

Tom went home but he only stayed long enough to clean up and get some food in his system. His first stop was the gym, something to work out his anger. But, as his so-called luck would have it, the one person willing to spar with him, wasn’t there. No one else who attended his gym was willing. Tom had a habit of getting a little too aggressive when in the ring and he’d lose control. No one wanted to get their nose broken or a few teeth knocked out because Tom can’t find a better way to handle himself.

This left Tom to his nightly routine of hitting up at least three bars in the area. He stayed at all of them until they kicked him out for nearly punching the bartenders when they cut him off. Harrison tried calling him but Tom always ignored him, sending him a few sloppy texts to fuck off and saying he could handle himself.

He couldn’t. Not completely.

He stumbled into his apartment complex well after two in the morning. He mumbled to himself, replaying the scene of him getting fired and everything he ‘should have’ said. As he walked down the hall to his door, he hit walls and ran into them, slowly getting louder. And once he reached his door, he found himself too drunk to even put the key in the hole correctly. This caused plenty of swears to leave his mouth and his knuckles to connect with the dark brown door. A yell fell from his mouth at the impact followed by a very loud ‘fuck.

Tom, not real considerate, wasn’t focused on who would be sleeping or who wouldn’t be. Not that in his intoxicated state he’d actually care either way. He’d be lucky if he could tell anyone what time it was even if he had his phone in front of his face. The walls are thin, though so drunk or not, he was likely to wake someone up. Unless someone happened to be awake and came out to stop him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Tom kicked his door, yelling again as if it were the door’s fault he couldn’t open it. And that’s when you finally heard him.


	2. choices

Monday nights were never very extravagant. You worked open to close with your dad at his small corner shop around the block from your apartment. You helped sell produce to suburban moms and flowers to older men still keeping romance alive with their wives of forty or fifty years. It’s not much, but you enjoyed it. It kept you busy. And, every time you closed, your dad took you out for dinner, one of the pizza joints still open. Afterward, he always took you home and after changing into something comfortable, you sat writing or watching tv. 

Simple. Happy. Content.

That’s what your life is now and you love it the way it is. You learned a long time ago to just be happy with what you’re given and make the best out of any situation. It might get a little annoying to be so optimistic but being pessimistic doesn’t get anyone anywhere. However, this Monday night would be making you question your optimism.

Yelling and groaning pulled your attention from your TV. It was just one person and it sounded like they were trying to kick their own door down. Your floor was relatively quiet besides one person. You never spoke to him. He was the only one on the floor you didn’t actually have a single conversation with despite him living right next door for over a year. But, you heard plenty  _from_  him thanks to the thin walls and his nightly escapades.

You did, however, run into him a few times. He always looked a mess. His air disheveled and eyes sunken in. Sometimes he could barely walk straight. Basically, the definition of a walking disaster so you minded your business but now you can still hear him groaning. You’re too nice to let him suffer out there alone.

You get up, sliding on your shoes by the door and head into the hall. Sure enough, he’s sitting on the floor with the back of his head resting against his door. His legs are extended in front of him and just as you were walking up, the neighbor on his other side opened their door.

“Uh, hey. Mrs. Kowalski.” You give the older woman a wave as you continue to walk up to Tom.

“I’m calling the landlord in the morning.” She scolds.

“Yeah? Fuck do I care?” Tom pipes up, barely even moving his head to look at the elderly woman.

“All you’ve been is a no good,-”

“Mrs. Kowalski, I’m gonna take him, uh, please don’t call the landlord.” You try and reason with her. “Just one more chance, please.”

She glances between you and Tom, her stare not softening. “I didn’t know you were friends.” Her eyes narrow.

“I don’t even know her.” Tom chuckles as he glances to you.

“He’s drunk,  _very,_   ** _very_**  drunk.” You say through gritted teeth as you stare down to Tom. “I’ll talk to him and make sure he’s quiet. Just please, we just got in some more tomatoes at the shop and they’re probably best all season. I’ll get you a good discount.”

Mrs. Kowalski looks down to Tom and her faces softens when she looks back to you. “One more chance.” She says before going back inside.

“Get up.” You stick out your hand to Tom.

“Leave me alone.” Tom mumbles slapping your hand away.

“You’re drunk. Get up.” You keep your voice level.

“Just…” Tom sighs. “Sleep.”

“You can’t sleep in the hallway.” You squat beside him.

“I can’t get inside.” He laughs with the slurred words.

You roll your eyes and shake your head, mentally cursing yourself for getting up in the first place. “Give me your key.”

“No, you’ll rob me.”

“Yeah, because that’s what I’m going to do at two in the damn morning. Rob the obnoxious alcoholic neighbor. Drunk logic. I’m gonna open your door for you.”

“No.”

You stare at him while the scent of the floor of a bar fills your nose. He smells horrible and he has a terrible attitude, even if he’s plastered. You can’t wrap your head around what could possibly be so much fun about getting so wasted you can’t even get your door open. Why does he do this? And why didn’t you just stay inside instead of getting involved? You know he’s going to be an ungrateful prick when he’s sober so why bother helping him? He’s an ass now, he’ll be an ass later. From what you’ve heard from your neighbors, Tom is nothing but impolite to everyone. So, why are you even trying? Oh, right, because it would haunt your conscience.

“Come on.” You grab his arm and put it around your neck. “You’re heavy so help.” Tom obliges and smirks at you once you’ve gotten him on his feet. “I’ll hit you if you even think about anything.” You roll your eyes and walk him to your apartment.

“I usually bring-”

“You’re going to sit in the bathroom until you’re sober enough to open your door.” You cut him off as you walk him to the bathroom. He doesn’t protest, instead, he takes his seat on the tiled floor in front of the toilet and leans his back against your bathtub. “Holler if you need anything.” You say as you go to walk out but Tom’s hand catches your wrist.

“You’re gonna leave me alone?” Tom pouts through a hiccup.

“Well, yes.” You nod and smile, pulling your wrist away from him. “I’ll bring you water.”

“Whatever.” He mumbles and closes his eyes. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. “Oh, spinning.” His eyes shoot open.

“Yeah, I’ll be back later. You puke on the floor, you clean it.”

“I’m fine.” Tom says.

“Okay.” You widen your eyes quickly and turn on your heels to leave him be.

You head to your kitchen and grab him a bottle of water. It’s such a dumb decision and you know that. But, there’s something inside of you that is telling you to look out for him this night. To make sure no one calls the landlord again. If they get called again, Tom gets evicted. You’re not sure why you feel this need to, almost, protect him from the consequences of his destructive actions but you do.

You walk back into the bathroom and as you were going to give Tom his water bottle, his face went pale and you knew. Tom was leaning over the toilet, throwing up as you winced in disgust but moved to him and rubbed his back until he was done.

“You okay?” You ask as he flushes the toilet.

“Mhm.” He hums.

“Here.” You hand him the water and he takes it from you, opening it and taking a drink.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, his eyes a bit bloodshot and watered.

“Yep.” You nod. “Wellp, I’ll be out there so-”

“You know,” Tom cuts you off. “Everyone is shitty.”

“What?” You furrow your brows and watch as he gestures a lazy hand out before more slurred words leave his mouth.

“Everyone. They’re shit. They expect shit from you and if you don’t-” He stops and for a second you think he’s ready to start throwing up again but then realize, he just lost his train of thought. “I don’t need anyone. I need that fuckin’ job.”

“Right…so, I’m gonna leave you-”

“And,” Tom cuts you off once more.

You sigh and take a seat, leaning against the wall while he talks. Most of the words leaving his mouth don’t make much sense. The words are either too slurred or the sentence itself is a complete mess to the point you’re pretty sure he’s not actually speaking English. But, you listen. You listen to him complain. And complain. And complain.

Two hours of complaining went by and he’d thrown up twice and you were ready to rip your hair out. How anyone be so negative? He was telling you all sorts of things that were wrong with the world and people and his friend and his family but none of it seemed so bad from your end. At least, the parts you could actually make out. In fact, it sounded more like he brought it upon himself. But, you just sat and listened. Sat and listened until his talking started to slow and his eyes became droopy.  A few more minutes and he was completely out.

A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you got up from the floor and left Tom to sleep off his drunken state, not before bringing him a throw blanket and putting it over him, though. It’s after five in the morning and you have a few options. You could try and sleep for two hours and then go to work, stay up and go to work on no sleep, or you could call your dad and go in late after you get some sleep and make sure Tom is out of your apartment. Only one of those seems to be a good decision but today isn’t a night for good decisions.

You choose twenty-minute naps to be sure you don’t miss Tom when he wakes up. You sleep in your living room, TV playing softly while your phone goes off right on time. Every single time. Those power naps are only helpful if you’ve actually slept, not if you’re trying to get out of sleeping a full night’s rest. Nonetheless, you suck it up. You call your dad when you know he’s awake and explain you were just extra tired and needed more sleep. No problem.

It’s around eleven when you’ve decided ten power naps were enough and you needed something in your system. But, just as you were grabbing a bowl for your cereal, Tom was walking down your hallway, into where your kitchen and front door are, his hand rubbing his head.

“Morning.” You chime, a smile wide and he nearly jumps completely out of his skin.

“Bloody hell. What the fuck?” His hand moves to his chest with the scare.

“You’re a ray of sunshine.” You giggle sarcastically as you rest your bowl on the table, staring at Tom.

“Uh,” He looks you over and swallows hard. “This doesn’t normally happen. I’m the one bringing girls home.” Tom runs a hand through his hair.

“What do you think happened? You woke up in my bathroom.”

“Yeah,” He shrugs. “I just, I thought ya know,” He smirks as his eyes look you up and down.

“Gross.” You grimace. “No. You were plastered and couldn’t open your door. You were being loud and obnoxious and your drunk ass thought I was going to rob you if you let me help you inside your own apartment.”

Tom’s eyes look to your ceiling as if he were trying to piece your story together.

He was right. He never, ever ended up at a girl’s place. It was a rule of his. If he went with them, they’d likely be clingy and annoying so he always brought them back to his place. This also allowed him to kick them out whenever he wanted, whether that be in the morning or right after he was finished. It didn’t matter. But, then he woke up on your cold tile floor, confused and slightly disoriented.

“So, where am I?”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” Your voice is soft and etched in bits of disappointment and disbelief.

“Should I?” Tom’s question isn’t out of confusion or curiosity, it’s arrogant.

“We’ve been neighbors over a year.”

“Oh.” Tom says but that still doesn’t seem to click. “Well, I’m off then.”

“You need a job.” You get your box of cereal as the words come out almost sing-song.

Tom stops his hand from grabbing your doorknob and his eyes darken with annoyance. “What?”

“Mhm. You’re talkative when you’re drunk. You lost your job. I saved you from getting evicted last night and I can stop you from getting evicted at the end of the month.”

“Why?” Tom eyes you with suspicion.

“Because.” You shrug. “The produce and flower shop around the block, Monroe’s, come there around five today and I’ll get you a job.”

“I’m good.” Tom scoffs and opens your door.

“Alright, I’ll see you when the landlord is kicking you out because you don’t have money.”

“I don’t need handouts.” Tom mumbles, his back now to you.

“Seem to be pretty okay with taking from, Harrison? That’s his name, right?” Tom stops dead in his tracks with your words.

“The hell did you say?” He looks over his shoulder, his lips in a straight line showing his anger.

“You talk a lot when you’re drunk.” Your words aren’t condescending but rather, filled with pity.

“Fuck off.” Tom groans but he stays standing in your doorway.

“I’ll see you later today. Take a shower first.”

Tom glares at you while you’re holding a soft smile. He shakes his head before leaving, slamming your door shut on his way out.

This was a choice you made. Offer him a job. He’s an ass, an arrogant ass at that, but there’s something about him. There’s something that makes you pity him. Tom is unhappy and he’s angry at everyone and the entire world, at least, that’s what he seemed to be earlier that morning. So, you offer him this job to try and help him. There’s no reason for it. You have every right to let him do him but, sometimes, people need a break. Not a break from people they know, but from someone just being nice. You’re that person to give him a break.

People are given choices. These choices affect more than themselves. A butterfly effect. But, with that, you can make these choices or let these choices make you. It’s all about choices and responsibility.


	3. deadbeat neighbor

Tom trudged to his apartment, his head pounding every step of the way. Who were you to offer him a job? He didn’t need your help. He didn’t accept handouts and how could you possibly have the audacity to say he does? What did he even tell you the night before? A thousand questions and rants were running through Tom’s hungover mind and it didn’t get any better when his phone went off the second he got inside his home.

It was Harrison as Tom expected. He was asking if Tom had gotten home alright and if he needed help with anything. Tom rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. He didn’t need anyone’s help. He could get any job he wanted. He was a good worker when he put his mind to it. At least, this is all what he thinks. Other people have different opinions but none of them matter to Tom. He’s too egotistical.

You, on the other hand, were content getting ready for the day. Sure you were exhausted but you knew if you napped, you’d end up sleeping all day and that wouldn’t help you for work the following day. You might as well suck it up and head in. It’s just you and your dad today anyway.

You got ready for the day and headed off, choosing to walk thanks to it not being horrendously cold. When you got to work, your dad was restocking some of the fruit, a thick brown box in one hand.

“Hey.” You chimed as you made your way over.

“Hey, I thought you were staying in?” Your dad asks.

“Yeah, I was but I’m feeling alright. It’s okay.” You smile and take the box from him.

“Why don’t you go put your things down first? And you man the register today. I don’t need you overworking yourself.” Your dad’s brows furrow as he takes the box back.

“There’s no convincing you otherwise today, is there?”

“No.” He chuckles and goes back to stacking apples.

“Fine.” You groan jokingly before heading to the back room of the small shop and drop your things off, only pulling out your laptop from your bag before heading back to the register.

You make yourself comfortable on a stool and rest your laptop under in the cubby area beneath the register counter. You watch your dad, debating whether or not to tell him about your encounter with Tom and that you might have already offered him a job. Other people worked with the two of you but your dad wasn’t exactly hiring. You just kind of told Tom you were. He’s down on his luck and he needs someone to help him get his shit together. Maybe you should mind your own business, but it’s too late now.

“So,” You start, gaining your dad’s attention who was now walking back to you. “Uh…we aren’t hiring, are we?”

“No, why?” He quirks a brow as he moves behind you, grabbing the blue pouch for the bank.

“I might have told someone we are.” You give him a smile that just reads ‘oops’.

“Why would you do that?” He questions.

“They seem to be down on their luck.” You shrug with your words, looking down to the register and back up.

“Are they a decent worker?”

“I don’t really know but if not, we can make him into one. I think he needs it.” You scoff.

“A boy?” Your dad’s brows knit together with the question.

“Neighbor.”

“It isn’t that deadbeat right next to you? The one you come in complaining about at least twice a week?”

Your dad had a point. You did complain about Tom all the time. Tom just never cared about the fact he had neighbors and very thin walls. It was nearly a nightly routine that he’d wake you up. It was either due to his headboard hitting the wall over and over, the moans coming through the walls, or him throwing things and yelling to himself about one thing or another. He was an annoying neighbor so you understand your dad’s hesitance.

“As I said, down on his luck.”

“You can’t help everyone, dear.” Your dad’s voice is soft but warning.

“I know but,” You shrug again, furrowing your brows. “I just feel like maybe I should try and help him, ya know? I don’t think he’ll show up anyway but, I feel bad for him. He’s got some stuff going on…I think anyway.” Your words trail off remembering bits of Tom’s drunk words.

He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. “Fine, he shows up, we give him a chance if not, oh well. But, he is your responsibility. His damages are on you.”

“Thanks, dad.” You smile sheepishly as he moves past you.

“Now, I have to go to the bank and I’m grabbing lunch, need anything?”

“No, I’m okay. I’ll call if it gets busy.”

He nods, smiling before heading out, allowing you to your own. You pulled out your laptop with the shop being empty and decide to start working on your other piece of writing. It was anything to distract your mind and pull you into a different universe. It kept you content.

Meanwhile, Tom had since showered and changed. Harrison made his way over seeing as it was one of his day off and he was not happy. Tom was starting to walk on very thin ice when it came to Harrison. Best friends or not, Harrison was tired of picking up the mess Tom kept creating. Jobs, friends, family, it was always Harrison who had put everything back together and when Tom would break over it, he had to put his best friend back together. It’s tiring.

“You’re my best mate but this is ridiculous.” Harrison groans, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against Tom’s counter.

“I didn’t ask your opinion.”

Harrison scoffs in response. “Alright, then, what’s your plan? Let’s hear it.” Harrison gestures his hand in front of him, rolling to signal Tom to start explaining.

“I’ll figure it out.” Tom huffs as he reaches for a beer inside the open fridge.

“Yeah, and what? Week before rent’s due you’ll be ringing me up asking for another loan or to crash, yeah?”

Tom shuts the fridge and sucks his teeth. “I can get a fuckin’ job, alright? Don’t need your help and I’ll be sure never to ask again.” Tom snaps.

“You’re slipping.” Harrison’s voice softens away from annoyance.

“I’m fine.” Tom rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, heard that before.” Harrison mumbles.

“If you’re going to bitch, you can leave.” Tom gestures towards the door and Harrison nods with pursed lips.

“Fine.” Harrison shakes his head and makes his way towards the door. “You need to get your shit together.” Harrison’s words cut deep as he opens the door and leaves Tom to his own.

Tom muttered to himself as he’s left alone in his kitchen. What did he have to prove to Harrison? Sure, Harrison knew him better than anyone but did he really have to prove himself? What’s the point? Tom knew Harrison would just find something to pick at. But then again, Tom would not be able to handle Harrison’s ‘I told you so’s’ if Tom proved to be wrong. Tom needed to show Harrison up. Show him he could do things without him despite all the doubt he projects, albeit, was Tom’s own doing. That would sure make Harrison leave Tom alone, let Tom continue on with his destructive behavior. Tom didn’t have to tell Harrison how the job opportunity came about. He just needed to have a job.

So, after a few hours of going and forth with himself, he gets up from the couch and slugs on a black jacket, remembering the small shop you mentioned earlier that morning. His earbuds playing music through his ears as he walked, cars casually passing him by on the walk. His mouth was pressed into a straight line and he’d love to be anywhere but here. Then again, if he did this, he could reward himself with yet another night out.

The door chimed as he entered, pulling your attention from your laptop. Your brows raised and you smiled a knowing grin, a bit surprised he showed but also holding a bit of arrogance.

“Hey.” He says curtly as he walks up the register, your laptop now closed.

“Hey.” You say, the smile not budging.

“So, now what?” His eyes show his annoyance as he looks around the shop.

Your smile drops as you share the annoyed look but you sigh, closing your eyes for a few seconds, not letting him get to you. “You start tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” He huffs, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a disbelieving grin.

“Already talked it over with my dad. You start tomorrow.”

Tom smirks with your calmness. “So, are you going to be like my boss?” He licks his bottom lip with the words.

“My dad is your boss, hold on.” You return the smirk and look to the open door that leads to the backroom. “Hey, dad! Tom’s hear!” You look back to Tom and his smirk drops immediately. “Please, don’t flirt with me.”

“That wasn’t flirting, darlin’.” Tom quips.

“Right.” You state as your dad comes up from the side of you.

“You’re Tom?” Your dad looks him up and down, clearly questioning his wardrobe choices.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Tom says, his attention moving from you to your dad.

“Well, y/n, put in some good words so you start tomorrow. You show up eight. You get two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour for lunch. Jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt. That’s your attire. You put on one our green aprons when you come in and you leave at seven. You do as I say. And you do as y/n says, understood?”

Tom’s brows furrow and he’s mentally punching himself for coming by. This already sounded like too much work for him. He’s used to just sitting behind a desk and typing away at a computer, getting home by six. This was not an office job.

“Yeah, understood.”

“Great. We’ll go over the rest tomorrow.” Your dad nods, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You give him a cheeky smile and he forces one in return.

“Tomorrow.” His lips are pursed and his face tinted red in more annoyance and frustration.

What did he just get himself into?


	4. smug smirks

Tom went back home after getting hired. There was a satisfied smirk across his face on the walk home, knowing that when he met up with Harrison later, he’d be able to prove him wrong, showing that Tom could get a job at any time. He didn’t have to tell Harrison all he had to do was show up in order tp get hired. There are some things he doesn’t need to explain. The point was that Tom figured his arrogance was necessary.

The rest of Tom’s day was spent at the gym, his fists punching a bag as hard as his body would allow him until his arms felt like freshly made Jell-O. His hair is damp and his knuckles are sore as he made his way home. But, the same lingering smile of arrogance was still plastered across his face as he got a text from Harrison saying he’d be over soon.

When he reached his apartment, he caught a glimpse of you trying to unlock your door with your laptop in hands, struggling. Tom chuckled to himself and walked up to you, sticking out his hand.

“What?” You asked, your voice not as snippy as maybe it should have been.

“Lemme help.” Tom states.

“Uh…okay.” You raise a brow but hand him your key. He wasn’t so pleased with you earlier but now he seems…chipper. In your opinion, Tom seems like the type to hold grudges over petty bullshit and yet, he was fine.

Tom unlocks your apartment, wiggling the key. “There.”

“Thanks?”

You were more than willing to get to know him, especially after the night before. You want to know what makes him drink so much he barely knows his own name. What makes him drink so much he starts rambling to hide whatever is going on in the depths of his head. But, this, this was weird. He didn’t seem to take well to you that morning and Tom definitely didn’t seem to take too kindly to you telling him not to flirt. So, why is he being nice and why does he have that goofy grin?

“Welcome.” Tom hands your back key and starts to walk next door to his apartment.

“Uh, hey.” You call out. “What was that for?”

“Am I not allowed to help a neighbor?” Tom says, unlocking his door.

“No, you are it’s just, you seemed pretty, well, not nice earlier.” You phrase your words carefully, trying not to disturb whatever beast might be lurking behind the seemingly cheering facade.

“That was earlier.” Tom states, looking back to you.

“Well, okay.” You glance to the floor and brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Eight, right?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, the confusion of Tom’s kindness still evident on your face.

“Okay.” He nods, licking his lips and smirking before going inside.

_There he is._

You rolled your eyes but there’s a smile trying to tug at your lips while you enter your apartment. He’s endearing and that’s a bit intimidating. He shouldn’t be  _endearing._  He’s bad news and anyone with two eyes can see that and his bad intentions but you have to smile.

Tom is smooth with his words when he finds one thing doesn’t work for him. When things don’t play out the way he wants, he tries another. That makes him the worst type. Lucky for you, you know and you know it’s okay to smile so long as you keep it work related, hoping Tom gets his shit together.

While you sat in your apartment, relaxing from your day, Tom was next door allowing Harrison inside. Harrison was quick to notice the smug look on Tom’s face and let out a sigh, running a hand through his blonde hair. The boys took their seats in Tom’s living room, beers in hand before Harrison started up.

“What’s got you smug?” Harrison questions.

“Got a job.” Tom smirks, taking a sip of his beer.

Harrison’s eyes roll. “Yeah? Where at?” His voice showing his distrust.

“Monroe’s.”

“The corner shop?” Harrison asks immediately. “Bit of a stretch for you, innit?”

Tom shakes his head. “Nope. They’re hiring. Walked in and was hired. Told you I could do it.”

Harrison’s eyes are narrowed, knowing there’s more to that story. It takes him tug and pull just to get Tom’s foot in any door and Harrison has always been a stand-up employee. No one in their right mind would hire Tom just walking in even if they’re desperate. Tom has one reference and he can’t put previous jobs down, not to mention his arrogance is enough to prevent him from getting any job.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Tom says but the smirk slapped across his lips says otherwise.

“No one gets a damn job just walking in, mate. What’s going on?”

“You asking to play big brother and crush my mood or do you just not want to admit I don’t need your help?”

“Both.” Harrison keeps a straight face with the word.

“Come on, mate.” Tom groans. “You should be happy for me.”

“Oh, I am. I just know you and know there’s a catch.” Harrison remarks, tipping the very top of the beer bottle in Tom’s direction.

“Guess you’ll have to live in denial there.” Tom chimes as he stands up. “Now, come on. I’m feeling the need to celebrate.”

Harrison rolls his eyes and gives Tom a disappointed sigh. “You have to work in the morning. _I_ have to work in the morning.”

“That’s why we’re celebrating. Get up.”

With another groan, Harrison followed Tom knowing if he didn’t, Tom would leave anyway. It was better if Harrison went with and at least kept an eye on him, or maybe, got more information out of him on this job.

The boys went out to their usual bar, Tom offering drinks on him and refusing to let Harrison pay for the first round no matter how persistent he was. But, it didn’t matter much because Tom was drinking more than Harrison anyway and within two hours, Tom was talking up some girl at the bar as he did every time they showed. To say Harrison was disappointed would be an understatement but, to say he was surprised would be a lie.

After third-wheeling long enough and noticing Tom wasn’t too drunk to get home on his own, knowing he’d repeat his same antics as every other night, Harrison went home, annoyed as usual while Tom left with the girl. And it was great. It usually was on Tom’s end. He got drunk, flirted with some hot girl, and then got to get off. No strings. No feelings. Just drunk sex. No harm no foul.

Tom’s alarm sounded the following morning and with a groan, he shut it off, peaking at the time. He had to shower and get ready. It’s his first day and he’s already going to be late. Amazing start. Lucky for him, however, the one-night stand left after they were done the night before so Tom didn’t actually have to kick anyone out. Not this morning anyway.

He got ready and made his way to your small corner shop, Tom tugging his coat close to him with the chilled breeze. When he reached the shop, the bell chimed pulling your attention to him. While he was half an hour late, he managed to still do his hair and pull himself together. You grit your teeth and roll your eyes. He had one job.

“You’re late.” You state from the counter.

“Overslept.” Tom states.

You bite your tongue, knowing Tom isn’t worth your energy to get all fired up. “Go in the back and set your coat down. My dad’s back there and he’ll have you sign the paperwork and help you clock in.”

“Got it.” Tom nods, his voice still holding touches of sleep.

Tom heads to the back and you take a deep breath. You know he’s a risk but you didn’t think he’d really be late on his first day. Tomorrow, for sure. But his first day? Come on. Was he really that arrogant? That arrogant to assume his smooth words could just get home off? That it would pass like every other job? His face isn’t going to get him very far if he can’t even show up on time and if he can’t at least call to say he’ll be late. Something.

He’s acting so entitled, it’s nearly impossible for him not to get under your skin which quite honestly says a lot.  You don’t get mad easily. Nothing bothers you much anymore but Tom strolls in and suddenly, your blood boils. Tom manages to have the charm to make you smile but the annoyance to make you want to rip your hair out and you’ve only spent a few hours with him.

“Now what?” Tom pulls you from your thoughts and you put on your best smile.

“The flowers over there,” You nod to the display at the other end of the store. “Need to be organized by color. You can start there.”

“That’s it?” Tom scoffs with a quirked brow.

“For the moment, yes.” Your face contorts with confusion.

“Alright then.” Tom rolls his eyes and makes his way to the display.

You watch him from the counter. The orange apron looked ridiculous on him but it was kind of cute, especially over the hoodie he was sporting. But, watching him just stare at the flowers, that was comical. He seemed completely lost with his hands on his hips, you having to bite back your smile as you leaned your elbow on the counter and rested your head on your hand. Minutes to seem to pass before Tom moved forward and started moving the bouquets, completely wrong just what you were waiting for.

“There.” Tom turns to face you, a proud expression on his face. “Easy, now what?”

You finally lets out a laugh. “Do you not know the color spectrum?”

“What?” Tom’s brows furrow and you get up from your seat.

“Warm to cool,” You state as you walk up to him. “You start to with reds and make your way to purples.” Tom’s confused expression doesn’t change. “Okay, seriously? Red and yellow make orange so it’s red to orange to yellow. Yellow and blue make green so it’s’ yellow to green to blue. Blue and red make purple so it’s blue to purple to red. Color spectrum. Color wheel. Think of a rainbow.”

“How long have you been doin’ this?” Tom questions, not hiding the annoyance of being corrected and the amusement you were getting from it.

“I don’t know, awhile I guess.” You shrug, brushing him off as Tom starts rearranging them.

“Who the hell can ramble that off?” Tom mumbles.

Your eyes narrow as you rub your face in a touch of frustration. “It’s gonna be a  **long**  day.”


	5. deal or no deal

As the day proceeded, you put Tom to work, making him rearrange fruits and vegetables, cleaning anything that “wasn’t” already cleaned the day before. He had to wipe down all the windows and sweep the floor while you sat behind the register, writing and glancing up at him every now and them, suppressing your laugh. Tom groaned and swore under his breath every step of the way but he was determined. You would give him that. He was determined to not give up so easily. 

“It has to be lunch, right?” Tom groaned as he approached the register after the only customer in the store left.

You check the time on your laptop and look up to him. “Depends,” A sly smile crosses your face. “How clean are the floors?”

“They’re clean.” Tom scoffs.

You roll your eyes. “I watched you.” A laugh falls from your lips. “You don’t even know how to sweep correctly!”

“If I was doing it wrong, why not help me?” Tom challenges.

“It was funny and I was bored.” You continue to laugh but Tom is not having it.

“This is cruel and unusual, ya know?” Tom’s face tints a shade of red with his anger.

“Fine, you can take your lunch but you have to take something with you.” You hop down from your stool and go under the cabinet, Tom watching with a quirked brow, ready to clock out and dart out of there. You walk around the counter and hand him a flashlight.

“Why the hell do I need this?” Tom’s eyes narrow as he takes the flashlight from you.

“So you can lighten up a little.” Sarcasm dripped from your mouth as you bit your lip.

Tom shook his head, a smile creeping across his face as he tried to fight it off. “You think you’re cute.” Tom says, handing the flashlight back, a failed attempt at keeping his smile at bay on display.

You shrug one shoulder. “Nah, but you do.”

Tom licks his lip and gives a soft nod. “Yeah, but the feeling’s mutual.” He scrunches his nose and cocks his head to the left.

You laugh and walk back to your seat. “Sure it is. Go take your lunch.”

Tom’s eyes widen and the sly smirk that had crossed his face vanished. “You don’t think I’m cute?” His voice isn’t hurt, rather it’s offended as if he’d never heard anything so absurd.

“Are you gonna take your lunch because if not, I will.” You state, dodging his question.

“C’mon, why not?” Tom urges, leaning his arm on the counter.

“Your face is nice,” You start and Tom’s face brightens right back up. “But you’re arrogant, lazy, rude, narcissistic, a drunk, a mooch, and quite frankly, I don’t think you’re a very good person.” Your words fall casually as if you were describing the weather.

Tom’s jaw falls open as he just stares at you while you were now looking over your writing as if you didn’t just insult Tom. No one had ever insulted him like that before. Sure, he’s been called a dick and lazy and all of those things and then some before but never by someone he’s never actually done anything to. Hell, no one has even said all of that in one breath before. It floored him to say the least. Who were you to go around and make those kinds of assumptions? You don’t know him well enough to have those opinions. But, that’s why first impressions matter.

“Am not!” Tom stands up and crosses his arms.

“Uh, yeah you are.” You say, your voice remaining casual.

“Yeah? And what makes you think that?”

You look up from your computer and blink at Tom for a few seconds, partially in disbelief. Maybe you should have added ‘oblivious’ to your list of insults.

“Arrogant, you walked in and knew you’d be hired no matter what and you were late brushing it off. I did say you would get the job but any normal person would have been ready for a real interview. You’ve been complaining since you got here and this isn’t even hard work. I hear you kick girls out in the morning. You’re mean to them. It amazes me anyone even goes home with you, actually. You-”

“Alright,” Tom puts his hands up to cut you off. “Ever think you’ve caught me on bad days?” Tom offers and you aren’t buying it.

“No.” You scoff and look to your laptop again. “Not after you spent the night on my bathroom floor.”

Tom sucks on his teeth still only recalling waking up on the white tile floor. Maybe he did say something to you to piss you off but if that were the case, why offer him a job? Nonetheless, Tom wasn’t going to focus on that mostly because it made him look like a fool and the thought of him spilling what lead him to that night terrifies him. Everyone has a chapter they don’t read out loud. Hopefully drunk him kept it to himself.

“C’mon, lemme prove it to ya.” Tom gains a tempting grin, pushing his thoughts into a box in the dark depths of his brain.

“Prove what?” You look back to him and the tempting grin is actually doing a good job of swaying you and you don’t even know what for yet.

“I’m not everything you just said.” Tom’s eyes roll and you sigh.

“Why?”

The thing with Tom is that he likes to prove everyone wrong when they’re speaking bad on his name even if it’s true. He’ll maintain this job for as long as Harrison will keep harassing him and he’ll be out to prove he’s not some jackass like you’re painting him to be. Not to mention, girls don’t just turn him down. He’s not about to let some girl who works in a corner shop be the first.

“Because.” Tom offers a soft smile.

He’s tempting. He is so smooth with his words and he’s cute. His hair is perfect and he’s so damn endearing, it actually takes strength to turn him down. There’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you to say no, which you’ll listen to because you always do. But, there’s a tiny little pull in your veins, the idea of seeing what Tom could possibly do to prove you wrong. Almost like adrenaline.

“Why though?”

“Why not?” Tom challenges.

“Can I add difficult onto that list?”

“Only if you agree.” Tom wiggles his brows with the words.

“How do you plan on proving me wrong?” You sigh and push your laptop to the side showing your peaked interest.

A confident smile is back on Tom’s face. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, darlin’.”

“What’d I say about calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Tom puts his hands up. “Y/n.” He corrects himself and your stomach starts to swarm with the smalls bits of butterflies with your name leaving his mouth accompanied by his accent.

You look him over and you know he’s a terrible decision but you did just tell him to lighten up and maybe you need to lighten up a little, too. It’s not like you have much faith Tom will prove you wrong. And on the off chance he does, it couldn't’ possibly end terribly on your end. And if he is exactly who you expect him to be, the person you’ve seen, you won’t be let down, rather you’ll be the one on top. You’ll have proved yourself right and have the satisfaction and maybe, just maybe, it’ll teach him a lesson.

“Lemme prove it to ya. What’d ya got to lose?”

“My dignity.” You retort causing Tom to squint one eye in displeasure. “Okay,” You take in a deep breath and nod your head. “Fine, I will allow you…” You move your eyes to the ceiling, biting your cheek in thought. “About a week to prove me wrong.”

“Three weeks and when I do?” Tom’s arrogance makes its appearance all over again.

“Two weeks. Bragging rights. Your whole M.O. is that you want to prove people wrong so there ya go.”

Tom nods and his chin wrinkles. “Alright, so what’s your motive then?”

“The satisfaction of being right.” What should be a sarcastic smile that crosses your face is actually soft and sweet.

“That all?”

“Yep. Nothing more to gain when you prove me right.”

Tom scoffs as he licks his bottom lip. “What’re the stakes?”

“You’re going all out, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Tom nods, his arms still crossed as he gestures one out for you to go on.

“Hmm, okay.” Your voice remains soft and sweet. “All you have to do is prove that you’re not some arrogant jerk who only cares about getting laid and-”

“Are you saying no sex?” Tom’s quick to cut you off, eyes wide causing you to burst into laughter.

“Go wild.” You state, your eyes widening to mock him. “But you gotta be respectful when you kick them out in the morning.”

“Fair.” Tom says. “What else?”

“Well, we have to hang out in order for you prove anything to me.” Tom nods, hanging onto every word. “So, whatever you do, you’re not allowed to fall for me.”

Tom chuckles and sticks out his hand. “Not a problem.”

“Two weeks.” You take his hand, sealing the deal.


	6. bagels

Tom took his lunch and you took over Tom’s job, the thought of your deal running through your head. Making a deal with Tom, a deal of any sort, is making a deal with the devil. His intentions aren’t good. His intentions are just solely for himself and surely that’s bound to end in disaster.

But, you don’t really have friends. Life happens and people can’t handle the bad. They stay for however they can and then leave so this is purely entertainment for you. Not to mention, you need a little inspiration for your writing and Tom seems to be the perfect person. Is it wrong? Probably. But is it worse than what he does? Probably not. All’s fair.

“How’s your employee working out for you?” Your dad asks while you wipe down the counter. **  
**

“I don’t think he’s actually worked a day in his life if I’m being honest.” You roll your eyes but there’s a smile playing at your lips.

Your dad sighs and shakes his head. “I’m not going to have to fire him already, am I? That’s a lot of paperwork.”

“No, no.” You say calmly. “I think he’ll start working harder now.”

“What’d you do?” He cocks a brow.

“Just training him.”

“You stay away from him, you hear me?” Your dad’s voice goes stern and his stare harsh.

“I’m an adult.” You retort, tossing the paper towels in the trash. “I’m just showing him how to work. He didn’t even know how to arrange the flowers.”

His eyes are narrowed, knowing you far better than you’re letting off. “I know you like giving people the benefit of the doubt and you like to see the good in people all the time, but dear, he is bad news. You can’t work that out of him.”

“What makes you think I wanna work it out of him?” You challenge, your arms crossing over your chest.

“I know you. You’re a lot like your mom.”

You shake your head. “Speaking of mom,” You ditch the Tom conversation. “She wants you call her for something. I think she wants to come down for your birthday.”

“And now she can’t even call me.” Your dad laughs it off.

Your parents are doing the long distance thing. It started a few years back, right after you graduated high school. Your mom got an incredible job offer but you couldn’t leave the city, not yet and your dad didn’t want to give up that little corner shop that’s been in the family for years. So, your parents make it work and it blows your mind. Maybe that’s why you tend to stay optimistic and have a little faith in hopeless situations. Your parents give you hope, even three thousand miles away.  

“Did she say anything else?”

“The usual. Work’s good, asking how I am, triple checking, asking how you are which is only followed by me telling her to ask herself. Don’t you guys Skype? Or are you still having problems working your laptop?” A smirk starts to cross your face with the off-handed remark.

“You’re not funny.” He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “Yes, we do and I know how to Skype now.”

“Thanks to me.” You laugh as the bell chimes above the door, Tom walking inside.

He gives a soft nod to you and your dad as he approaches you. “‘M I late?” Tom asks.

“No, you’re just on time.” Your dad responds, glancing to Tom’s hand where there’s a brown paper bag in hand. “You can clock back in, set your things in the back and y/n can take her break.” He turns and nods to you.

“Oh, this is actually for her.” Tom smiles and hands the bag over, you and your dad glancing to each other and then back to Tom with confused expressions.

“Okay.” You say slowly, taking it from him.

“Figured while I was out I’d get you somethin’.” Tom says slightly raising his brows.

“You got three different kinds of bagels?” Your eyes narrow as if trying to solve whatever game Tom was now playing.

“Wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Well, that was nice of you.” Your dad says. “Where did you eat?”

“Panera.” Tom answers.

“Good soup.”

“Good sandwiches.” Tom says in response, turning his attention back to you.

The innocence on his face is only  _slightly_  creeping you out. He really was going to give you a run for your money if he’s going to try this hard only half an hour into this. Being nice to your dad, bringing you bagels, actually speaking with a calm and respectful tone rather than condescending. It’s as if he actually has a little switch in his head and he can flick it whenever he wants.

“Okay, I’m gonna clock out. Thanks for the food.” You say, trying to hide your confusion in your tone but to no avail.

You move to the back, Tom on your heels leaving your dad on the floor. The innocence was gone the second you both entered the back room. The cute smile turned arrogant and he was sure he was already warming up to you and your dad. He definitely asked the older woman working at Panera how he could make a good impression on a new co-worker. Tom might regularly be too proud to ask for help but when it comes to proving his name, he’ll go to any lengths necessary.

“Why the food?” You ask as you clock out, allowing Tom to clock in.

“It’s a nice thing to do.” Tom answers with pride.

“Yeah, but maybe I don’t like bagels.”

“Wouldn’t that make the gesture nicer? It’d have been a waste of my money then. I took a risk.”

You chuckle softly. “Alright, okay.” You nod and suppress your smile. “But nice try with my dad.”

“What?” Tom faces you, his brows starting to scrunch together.

“You’re not gonna impress my dad with bringing me food.”

“I don’t remember impressing him being part of the deal?” Tom quirks a brow.

“Why be nice to him if you’re not trying to impress him?” You challenge.

“He was there with you. Rules are that-”

“You have to prove me wrong.”

Tom lets out a grow and runs a hand through his hair. “That means winning your dad over, doesn’t it?”

You give him a wide smile. “Not necessarily. But…”

“You’re gonna make this hell.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m not a jerk. If anything, this will be good for you.”

With one sentence, Tom turns on a dime. “You don’t know what’s good for me.” Tom snaps and a tint comes to his ears.

“Uh, okay.” You say softly. “I mean-”

“You don’t know me. You don’t know what’s fuckin’ good for me. Don’t act like you do.” Tom moves away, brushing his shoulder against yours.

“I didn’t mean it that way.” You say, your voice calm, the complete opposite of Tom’s.

“Yeah? How’d you mean it then?” Tom stops in his tracks, his back still to you.

It’s a button. It’s like a big red button kids have to press just to see what’ll happen if they do. For once, Tom wants someone to think he knows what’s good for himself even if he doesn’t. His drinking habits aren’t healthy. His anger isn’t, the way he treats other people is out of hand. But, maybe if someone gave him a little faith that he could do something on his own, that he could handle himself and it’d be okay, maybe he would be able to fix those things. But, no one ever wants to. He’s fucked up, he’s fucked up physically and mentally. No one thinks he can handle himself.

“I just..I mean maybe it’ll be good for you to have to prove you’re not who I think you are.”

Tom looks over his shoulder and your face is soft and it’s not what he expects. When he even snips at Harrison or anyone in his family, they get red-faced and fight back or they don’t even bother with him anymore. the other girls he snaps on look ready to slap him and sometimes do or they look a bit fearful. But, you’re different. That’s the new thing, though. His friends and family just brush him off and move on, move away. You’re the complete opposite. Calm, innocent, soft, fearless.

“Sorry.” Tom mumbles before walking away.

Working in retail means getting yelled at for no reason and having to be nice even when there’s no risk of getting fired. It’s just part of customer service. So, you can handle getting yelled at for nothing. But, it’s a bit more than that. It’s hard to piss you off and when you are, you don’t explode. You had your fair share of being pissed off at the world and you don’t see the point but you understand that sometimes, people need to explode first. Tom exploding over a comment, a small comment like that, you couldn’t help the way your heart broke. There was anger in his face and danger in his eyes but it was laced with something deeper. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting next two weeks.

* * *

The day proceeded and Tom was let off, allowing you and your dad to close up. Tom rolled his eyes more times than he had in his entire life and he held back more comments than he could count but besides his snip in the back room, he actually held himself together quite well. But, probably one of his most accomplished moments was him not flirting with you even when it was tempting. He caught himself, a few times you noticing and you immediately laughing, teasing Tom. Normally, it’d send him into a tailspin of swears but your laugh eased his anger and just made him smile.

Now it’s quarter to eleven and Tom has Harrison over, mostly because Harrison was eager to hear about his best friend’s first day. Harrison might give Tom shit but he does truly care for him and want the best for him. He has to check on him even when Tom is an utter prick.

“Alright, enough dodging questions, how was your job?” Harrison smirks as Tom puts in a beer in front of his friend.

“Not dodging, can’t ask my best mate how his work went?” Tom questions, taking a drink of his own beer.

“You never ask.” Harrison counters, gesturing to him with the tip of the bottle.

“Yeah, alright.” Tom chuckles and Harrison leans back with interest. Tom should be in a horrible mood but he’s not.

“What’s up? Was it not horrible?”

“It’s horrible.” Tom chortles. “You know flowers have to be arranged by fucking color? Like the color spectrum or whatever.”

Harrison bursts into laughter. “That would make sense, Tom.”

“But it’s fuckin’ stupid! Who cares? They’re flowers!”

“Why don’t you seem pissed then?” Harrison gives Tom a challenging smirk.

“What?” Tom asks, his brows knitted together as he takes a sip from his beer.

“C’mon, I know you. What’s her name?”

“What makes you think it’s a girl?” Tom retorts.

Harrison scoffs. “Alright, what’s _his_ name?”

“Fuck off.” Tom rolls his eyes. “If I tell ya, you can’t nag me like your my mom or some shit.” Harrison waves his hand telling Tom to go on but before he can, there’s a knock on the door.

“Saved by the bell.” Harrison remarks and Tom shakes his head before making his way to the door.

He opens it and is met with the sight of you. Your hair is damp and you’re in a hoodie and pajama pants, looking comfortable and an instant smile comes to Tom’s face with the sight of you.

“Hey, I meant to give you your schedule and I definitely forgot.” You give an apologetic smile as you hand him the paper.

“Thanks.” Tom says, his hand holding the door open and supporting part of his weight. He turns to look back at Harrison who was sat at the table, watching him with a curious and knowing grin. “Aye, uh, you busy?”

“Depends, why?” You ask with questioning eyes.

“Just having a few drinks with my mate, Harrison. Wanna join?” Tom offers and Harrison just shakes his head, unbeknownst to you. Harrison isn’t sure if it’s some cruel joke or if Tom is being sincere. It’s hard to tell these days.

“I don’t drink but thank you.” You politely decline.

“Don’t have to. I’ve got water.”

You stare at the dark-eyed boy, the danger in his eyes still lingering but there’s something softer about him, him just standing in the doorway with a blue hoodie and grey sweatpants. He’s still Tom and you’re not being proved wrong so quickly but, there’s comfort it seems. And, you’re not too proud to see exactly what’s going on. What better way to get to know what he’s all about than to spend a little bit of time with him and his friend?

“I..I guess I could hang out for an hour if your friend doesn’t mind.”

Tom’s smile widens and for a second, you think it might be sinister but he seems genuinely happy you took up his offer. “Haz, you mind if my neighbor joins?” Tom moves, giving you a glimpse of the blonde haired guy who shakes his head and gives you the sweetest smile. “Come in, then.” Tom opens the door and allows you inside.

* * *


	7. untold stories

You enter Tom’s apartment and glance around as you make your way to the table where Harrison was still sitting. It didn’t look much different than your apartment really. It was a bit messier, dishes by the sink and a stray hoodie and here and there with beer bottles decorating the top of the end table in the living room instead of water bottles. It was a bit messy but not too bad. However, it was quite homey, something you didn’t quite expect. Along with a few stray hoodies, there were a few throw blankets on the couch with an extra pillow. The walls were decorated with random pictures, him with presumably his family. A smile tugged at your lips.

_Maybe he did have a soft side._  

“Oh here,” Harrison gets up and pulls out a chair for you. 

“Thanks.” You give the cute blonde a shy smile, getting a good look at him. Tall, blonde curly hair with bright blue eyes. He’s stunning to say the least.

“Harrison.” Harrison offers you his hand and you take it gently. 

“Y/n.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks. 

“Water?” Tom asks as he walks to the fridge, interrupting the pleasantries.

“If you don’t mind.” You send him a sweet smile, taking your seat and move your attention back to Harrison as he sits beside you.

Tom hands you the chilled bottle of water while he looks over the piece of paper containing his hours for the next two weeks. His face scrunches while you take a sip of water, awkwardness filling the air as if you’d just intruded on something.

“Was this a mistake?” Tom scoffs, pulling his eyes to you.

“Probably not, why?” You ask, capping your water.

“I’m only off two days.”

“Yes. You have Wednesdays off.”

“He’s not used to actually having to work.” Harrison chortles, sipping from his beer.

“I work.” Tom mumbles with narrowed eyes.

“You his boss then?” Harrison looks to you and you can’t help but smile. His eyes are like entering another world.

“My dad is but it’s like a tier. So, I kind of watch him, show him the ropes.”

“I’m so sorry.” Harrison chuckles, gaining a giggle from you.

“Fuck off.” Tom groans.

“Just taking the piss.” Harrison states, proud smile on display, looking back to Tom.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Tom shakes his head.

“So,” You take in a breath. “Was I interrupting something? Or do you guys just hang out in your kitchen?”

The two boys exchange looks, before nodding. They really didn’t do much when they’d have a night in. If they had a few other people other, they might play a game or two of poker or some other card game. But, when it’s just the two of them, they usually bum around with a few beers and watch something that holds their attention.

“No, ‘course not.” Tom says, a charming smile replacing the annoyed expression. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Do share.” Harrison quirks a brow, leaning back in his chair.

“Bullshit.”

“There are three of us, now. What’re the stakes?”

“Lunch for a week?”

You look between them, trying to follow exactly what they were on about. By the sounds of it, they usually had some type of bet with what they’re doing and if you had to guess, it’s because of Tom, hence your deal.

You’re deal.

That just made you look at Harrison a little longer. Did he know? Did he Tom tell him? Part of you was hoping he hadn’t and you couldn’t quite figure out why. It doesn’t matter if Tom tells anyone. He could shout it from the rooftops and it wouldn’t make a difference. It won’t change him or your deal. But, it still ate at the very pit of your stomach. Maybe it was guilt. Was it so wrong to have this deal?

“You ever play bullshit?” Harrison asks.

“No.” You say with furrowed brows, your hands wrapping around your water bottle nervously.

“Wanna play? Loser buys lunch for the week.” Tom asks.

“Been doing this for years when we can get a third person to play.” Harrison explains.

“There has to be three people?” You ask.

“It’s better if you have more but yeah, gotta have three at least.” Tom answers.

Lunch? That’s it? That’s easy, but a bit weird if you lost and had to buy for someone you don’t know. At least if it were just Tom, you’d at least be at work together but Harrison? You don’t even know what he does. All you know is that he’s Tom’s best friend and he’s the one that’s always nagging him about money. Well, that’s what you gathered from the night Tom spent on your bathroom floor. Then again, if Harrison is the one nagging Tom, looking out for him, he can’t be too bad. He’s already off to a better start than Tom.

“How do you play?” You shrug it off and decide there’s no harm. Plus, this will give you an excuse to talk to Harrison and see if Tom can behave himself. You have to hang out for Tom to prove he’s not what you think.

“I’ll get the cards.” Tom smirks and exits the kitchen.

The kitchen falls silent as Harrison looks over to you. You’re pretty as hell making Harrison understand exactly why he applied for the job. But, you seemed nice, sweet, innocent even. What the hell would make you hire Tom let alone actually be okay with spending some time with him and his best friend? Most girls that want to spend time with Tom, they’re intentions are the same as Tom’s. At least, to some extent. Some want more but mostly, they’re in for a one-night stand. You seemed different and Harrison’s been sitting next to you for all of five minutes.

“Okay, really, how’s it like working with him?” Harrison quirks a brow.

“Can I be honest?” You ask with a very slight grimace. Harrison nods with curiosity. “He’s horrible.” You say through gritted teeth and wide eyes. “Are you sure he’s worked before?”

Harrison bursts into laughter. “I figured so much.” Harrison says. “He’ll quit in two weeks or you’ll fire him for being late so damn much.”

“If he’s that bad, why do you get him jobs?” You ask, your voice is soft and innocent, nothing but genuine curiosity in your words.

Harrison shrugs. “He’s my-wait.” Harrison stops mid-sentence. “How do you know I get him jobs?”

“He mentioned it.” You whisper looking away from the striking blue eyes. “Uh, he was really drunk though so…”

“Won’t say anything.” Harrison shakes his head. “But, you’ve got to tell me  _this_  story on what led you to hire him because he hasn’t told me anything.”

“I don’t think it’s my place.” You give Harrison an apologetic smile despite you desperately wanting to tell him.

Tom, as far as you knew and everything he’s said, made you think he’d have told Harrison something but he didn’t. Nothing. Sure, he did tell him what you put him through at work but that’s it. Shouldn’t Tom be bragging about how simple it was for you to see him drunk and get him a job with the snap of your fingers? Now with your deal, with someone as arrogant as Tom, you’d think he’d assume you were wrapped around his finger already. But, nothing. His lips were sealed.

“Just tell me you didn’t hook up with him b-”

“No!” You cut Harrison off. “No, no, no. I’d never hook up with him.” You mentally kick yourself for your comment but Harrison seems amused and relieved.

“No? Most girls are all for it.”

You shake your head. “I mean,” You let out a deep breath. “He’s cute but he’s not very nice and…I’m not setting myself for up that.” Your voice is as soft as velvet with the words, showing your innocence. “You seem nice though so, um, why do you put up with everything?” You switch to Harrison, not wanting to linger on talking about Tom, not with his best friend who very well might relay everything you say to Tom.

Harrison lets out a chuckle and sits up in his chair, turning to face you. His arms rest on the table beside yours, the heat from his bare skin radiating to you. “Been best mates since we were little and moved here together. Sure, he can be a fucking twat half the time but he’s not all bad.” Harrison has a cute smile but it quickly vanishes and a sort of honestly falls into every line on his face. “It’s not my story to tell.”

Your eyes locked with his and you swore your heart stopped in your chest for a second but you push it aside as you processed Harrison’s words. “There’s a story as to why he’s…the way he is?”

“There’s always a story, y/n.” Harrison has a cornered smile but his eyes are sad, confusion seeping through your veins.

What the hell could have happened to make Tom treat people as if they were objects to just use at his own demise? Especially girls. Curiosity itched the back of your head but you knew better than to push. Harrison’s right. Everyone has a story and some people want to read it out loud, others like to keep it to themselves. In either situation, it’s always the writer’s choice on if they want to tell it or not, not the readers. You understand that more than anyone.

Harrison changes subject, careful not to start saying too much and you hang onto every word. The two of you are completely oblivious to Tom who was standing in the hallway, listening to your soft conversation and laughter.

One thing Tom doesn’t do is get jealous. What’s he have to be jealous of? He can get any girl he wants. Hell, if he tries, he can get anything he wants and he’s well aware of it. He’s only known you for just over two and a half days but there’s a ping in his chest and fire rushing through his veins with the sound his friend and you getting along so well. You’re not his and you’re not going to be his with his horrible attitude and life decisions but it hurts. It hurts in a way Tom swore he’d never let anyone hurt again. Never again.


	8. two sides of the same coin

Tom pushes the ache into the back of his mind, convincing himself that it can’t be jealousy. He can’t be jealous of Harrison for talking to you. It just, it can’t happen. So, he walks in and takes his seat across from you, pulling out the cards from their sleeve. His actions are stiff and he’s silent while his mouth is pressed into a harsh line. It’s more than obvious he’s not happy. His demeanor has made a one-eighty. You and Harrison exchange looks before Harrison speaks up.

“You okay, mate?”

“Fine.” Tom says, shuffling the cards. “Ace high or low?”

Harrison rolls his eyes while Tom glances to you, already picking up on why Tom’s behavior changed so suddenly. “Low.” Harrison says, taking a drink from his beer.

“I deal out all the cards to the three of us.” Tom starts as he starts dealing. “We go in a circle putting down cards. Ace to King. It has to go in order so we start to with Haz, go to me, then you.” Tom’s eyes look to you as you try to follow the rules of the unfamiliar card game. “Haz will put down an ace, I put down a two, you put down three, back to Haz for a four and then five from me and six from you, so on, got it?” You nods once with furrowed brows.

“What if I don’t have that card?” You ask.

“Put any card down. The cards go face down. If you think either of us is lying about our card, you call bullshit. If you’re right, whoever put down the wrong card picks up the others and adds them to their deck. If you’re wrong, you pick up the deck and you add them to yours. First one to not have any cards left wins.” Tom finishes explaining.

“Got it, yeah.” You nod, picking up your cards and looking them over.

“Let’s play.” Tom sighs while Harrison puts down his card.

The three of you go in a circle and for the first few minutes, it’s quiet. Tom was the chatterbox of the boys but he was too busy keeping his jealousy in check. Part of Tom’s and your deal comes with Tom keeping his anger in check. He has to stay calm otherwise he’s just another hot head. Not to mention, it probably wouldn’t look too good on his part if he were to snap. If Tom snapped over his best friend flirting with his co-worker, that just makes him out to be exactly who you think he is even though,  _this one time_ , it’s different.

No one has ever stood up to Tom the way you have. You do it with grace and ease and still, while thinking he’s an ass, you give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s this part that’s slowly picking at his inner walls, picking at the paint and the plaster holding the bricks together, it’s saying maybe you went through something similar to what he did. Maybe that’s why you hate how he treats people. When people get fucked over, it makes them mean or it makes them kind. It’s a choice. You can be let the world fuck you up, or you show the world you don’t care and you’re gonna be nice anyway. So, maybe you and Tom are just two sides of the same coin. No one is that nice for no reason.

“Bullshit.”You say after a few rounds.

Tom’s eyes fall on you and the once sour look on his face that seemed stuck turned to a devilish smirk. Your heart jumped to your throat as your hands grow just clammy enough to notice. You hoped your first time calling Tom’s bluff you wouldn’t be wrong but the smirk he held told you otherwise.

“You sure ‘bout that?” Tom asks, tilting his head slightly to the right as Harrison chuckles beside you.

You look down to your cards and then back to Tom whose eyes were still glued to you. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Your uncontrollable smile splits your face.

“Fuck you.” Tom scoffs but the smirk doesn’t leave his face as he takes the cards into his hands.

“I was hoping you’d call him.” Harrison nudges your shoulder, giving you a sweet smile before his eyes fall on Tom as if to be testing the waters with both of you.

While you gave an endearing smile to Harrison, Tom’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head, mouthing ‘don’t’. Harrison nodded but the smile stuck on his face while he leaned back in his chair.

“You can put your card down.” Tom says, looking to you with a deep breath.

“Got a date tomorrow.” Harrison says, you and Tom whipping your heads to look at Harrison’s seemingly random remark but within seconds, Tom is giving Harrison a grateful smile.

“Yeah?” Tom says, playing along while Harrison plays his card.

“Yeah, gonna head out after work tomorrow and go for dinner.” Harrison answers while you stay oblivious to the lie Harrison was telling.

Harrison would never go after anyone Tom would even show the slightest interest in. And while Tom has his moments, he’s a loyal friend and he’d never do that to Harrison either. Although, Harrison is definitely going to be bombarding Tom with questions on why the sudden possessiveness over you when he’s had no interest in anything besides a hookup in over a year. But, that was the main reason Harrison backed off immediately and came up with date lie. If Tom is showing genuine interest in someone, Harrison is gonna be the middleman if he has to to make sure that works out right. He misses Tom, the Tom he was before.

“Stop by after.” Tom gives his friend a smirk which grants him a displeased look while you put your card down.

“Yeah, yeah.” Harrison chortles.

“You guys are really close.” You state with the sweetest smile.

“Kind of like the brother I chose.” Harrison responds. “Not sure why though.” Harrison remarks while Tom gives him the finger and the three of you erupt into laughter.

“You’d be lost without me!” Tom defends between the laughter.

This was the first time you heard Tom genuinely laugh. Sure, he laughed on your bathroom floor but he was drunk. Drunken laughter doesn’t count, especially the laugh Tom had. It was a spiteful laugh and kind of irked you. So, this, his laugh that was more a giggle and turned into something louder and happier and just, pure, it made you happy. Tom’s laugh made you happy and someone with a laugh like that, someone who can project so much happiness with it, can’t be that bad. Which, really, just makes you want to make Tom laugh every second you’re with him.

“Probably, yeah.” Harrison agrees, the laughing just barely subsiding.

“But,” Tom stops his laughter and his smile drops while his brows knit together. “Bullshit, mate.” Tom gives Harrison a one-sided smirk as Harrison takes in a deep breath.

“You sure?” Harrison mocks Tom.

“What d’ya think, y/n?” Tom turns his attention to you.

“You should pick up the cards,” You lick your lips, mocking Tom’s smirk and while Tom’s face starts to look both sarcastically appalled and shocked, you whip your head to Harrison. “Harrison.”

“Are you teaming up with him now?” Harrison rests a hand on his chest, acting to be hurt.

“Maybe.” You giggle and look back to Tom whose face is so soft, softer than you had ever seen it.

“You guys suck.” Harrison mumbles as he picks up the cards.

The game continues and Tom finds himself staring more at you than maybe he should be. And everytime he catches himself staring, it’s because you’ve noticed and your cheeks tint and Tom realizes he’s actually been smiling the whole time. Harrison has to bite back his tongue to not say a word and Tom is biting back the urge to flirt.

Flirting.

He’s good at it. If flirting were a sport, he’d have a gold medal but, that’s part of your deal. No flirting. So, he bites back wanting to compliment your hair that’s kind of a mess but compliments your face nicely. And he bites back wanting to tell you that you look beautiful in your sweats, comfortable and at peace. He bites back wanting to compliment the way your eyes shine in the light of his kitchen while your eyes crinkle every time you laugh. Even the simplest of compliments could be considered flirting and Tom can’t risk that. So, he holds his tongue and allows his heart to fall into his stomach.

“Bullshit.” Harrison says, looking to you who just placed your last card on the deck.

“Flip it over.” You take a sip from your water, smiling at Tom.

Harrison sighs and reaches for the deck, flipping over your card. “Oh, come on.” Harrison groans.

“Well,” You beam with pride, a little surprised you won your first game of Bullshit. “I gotta head back so I can sleep.”You get up from your chair.

“So soon?” Tom asks immediately following your words, the disappointment a little too evident in his voice.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the flattered smile. “Yeah, I like to get a lot of sleep.” You shrug and look to Harrison. “It was nice to meet you and maybe I’ll see you later if Tom beats you.”

“He won’t.” Harrison holds his head up.

You look to Tom and back to Harrison. “Who knows.” You giggle. “Have fun on your date though.”

“Yeah, right.” Harrison nods, almost forgetting the petty lie. “Thanks.”

“Here, I’ll walk you out.” Tom offers, stuffing his cards in the pocket of his hoodie, forgetting that all Harrison has to do is count his cards to figure out what cards Tom has.

“I…I live next door?” You quirk a brow and your eyes narrow slightly. Tom doesn’t respond, however. His brows knit together and his eyes widen like a sad puppy. “Okay.” You chuckle.

Tom walks you out and to your door next to his. You, while finding him to be far more endearing in his own home, are still suspicious of his behavior. It’s day one, he can’t just expect you to fall for him or just go with whatever he wants. You won’t be swayed that easily. Hell, you even found yourself a little disappointed  _Harrison_ had a date. That’s reason enough for you to be watching Tom carefully.

“You have fun?” Tom asks.

“I did.” You nod simply, unlocking your door. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I told you I’m not who you think I am.” Tom holds his head up high.

You sigh and shake your head. “We have rules, Holland.” Tom raises a brow, confusion spreading across his face. “You’re not allowed to fall for me.”

Tom scoffs and shakes his head quickly. “I’m not.”

“Okay.” You nod and bite your bottom lip.

“But you can fall for me.”

Your heart stops in your chest with his words. They caught you off guard for more than one reason. First, why would he even say that? And why would it matter if you fell for him? But, also, that’s a comment you expected to be held with so much arrogance, you’d suffocate on it but it wasn’t. Tom sounded genuine and honest, there might even be a small touch of vulnerability in his words.

“I won’t.” You shake your head and keep your voice soft and sweet, ignoring the thumping of your heart.

“How do you know?” Tom challenges, gesturing a hand.

You shrug a shoulder, not wanting to completely insult him. “I just do. How do you know you won’t fall for me?” You counter.

Tom chuckles as he glances to group and back to you. “Good point.”

“So, how do you know you won’t fall for me?” Your smile is taunting but you’re trying to hold back a laugh. 

Tom scratches above his eye as his tongue graces the front of his teeth. He is not going to have that conversation in the hallway. Hell, he doesn’t even like having that conversation with Harrison.

“I don’t fall for people.” 

You scoff at his words getting the impression he was full of shit. “Me either.” You respond, playing his game.

“Why not?” Tom bites his bottom lip, trying to get information from you. 

“Why don’t you?” 

Tom laughs and your cheeks heat up with the sound. “Fine, you win.” Tom surrenders.

“I’m on a roll tonight.” You remark, soreness taking over your cheeks from smiling. 

Tom’s laugh subsides but a gentle smile is still on his lips. You were on a roll but not the type you thought you were on. But, there’s something with how you light up when you’re winning a battle that Tom’s quickly being addicted to. You were confident in calling his bluff in the card game and Tm couldn’t help himself. You were only right twice, every other time you called bullshit, Tom lied and picked up his cards anyway. It made you happy. Something he did, second hand albeit, made you happy.

“Yeah, yeah you are, I guess.” Tom nods softly. 

“Well,” You point your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m gonna go to bed, but I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Goodnight.” Tom smiles and waves. 

You giggle at his gesture and wave back. “Goodnight, Tom.” You close the door and leave Tom in the hallway.

Tom tilts his head back and puts his hands over his face. Did he really just wave at you? Who the hell waves? When the person is right there? Saying goodnight? A groan escapes his lips as he makes his way back to his apartment, kicking himself. Tom lets the confusion of the wave wash over him and denial of the previous jealousy and thumping heartbeats to take over. Being in denial was a lot easier when you weren’t around.

“So, do you want to explain?” Harrison asks as Tom comes back, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.

Tom rolls his eyes before going back to the table. “We don’t have to finish. I’ll get lunch.” Tom says, laying his cards on the table.

Harrison’s brows raise in surprise as he leans forward. “You’re into her?”

“No!” Tom sneers. “She thinks I’m just some fuckin’ prick who can’t keep it in his pants and that I’m an arrogant asshole. Bullshit if you ask me.”

Harrison blinks and his eyes narrow. “But you are those things.” Tom sends Harrison a harsh glare as Harrison rolls his shoulders back. “You are, mate, been telling you that for the past year.”

“You said you understood.” Tom mumbles, fiddling with his empty beer bottle.

“I do but that doesn’t make her wrong or what you do right.”

“Well, I’m proving her wrong.”

“By buying her lunch for a week?” Harrison chuckles.

“No,” Tom groans. “Okay, yeah but I’m just not gonna do what she thinks I do for two weeks.”

“Right…” Harrison takes a drink of his near-empty bottle of beer. “What?” Harrison’s face scrunches in worry, afraid of what his friend has gotten himself into this time.

“Made a bet, really.” Tom admits. “I just gotta prove her wrong, is all.” 

“And winner gets?” Harrison asks, knowing Tom has to have something on the line. 

“Bragging rights.” Tom answers nonchalantly.

_There we go._  “How bad did she turn you down?” Harrison laughs, knowing his friend too well.

Tom purses his lips as he looks down, shaking his head and loose curls fall onto his forehead. “Yeah…” Tom chuckles.

“Hell must’ve frozen over, ya?” Harrison jokes.

“She can’t turn me down forever.” Tom smirks.

“This is probably what she’s talking about, you know?” Harrison waves a finger in the air, half mocking Tom.

“Are you going to tell her?” Tom retorts.

“No,” Harrison’s eyes widen the word. “Of course not.”

“Then she’ll never know. What she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her.”

Harrison tilts his head slightly. Tom? Caring about someone else’s feelings besides his own? A miracle possibly at this point.

“Come on, really,” Harrison grin drops. “What’s your plan?”

Tom shrugs. “Dunno. She said I can’t kick girls out in the morning,” Tom pauses. “Well, I guess I’m kind of mean when I do it so I have to be nice.”

“You are mean to them.” Harrison says. “You called a girl a slut once to get her to leave.”

Tom winces at the memory. “Not my finest moment.” He admits. “I did apologize though.” Tom tries to defend but Harrison just shakes his head in disappointment. “It was-”

“I know.” Harrison says. “I know why you said it, I was here but that doesn’t make it right.” 

“Are you gonna lecture me or can I finish?” Harrison waves a hand for Tom to finish. “I can’t do that and I can’t flirt with her.” Harrison bursts into laughter only to quickly apologize so Tom could finish. “I have to put effort into working and ya know, stuff like that I guess. Oh,” Tom sucks in a breath. “I can’t fall for her.” 

Harrison nods taking in Tom’s agreement with you. He’s intrigued, truthfully he is. He wants to know how this even came about and how you managed to keep Tom level-headed enough to actually have this bet with him. But, Harrison didn’t want to get into that aspect just yet in fear of setting Tom off.

“If you do?” Harrison asks. 

“I won’t.” Tom says, lying through his teeth, denial front and center. 

“Alright.” Harrison says, not willing to push Tom further. 

“That’s it?” Tom asks, waiting for Harrison to tell him it’s a horrible idea. 

Harrison nods. “Yeah, I think it’s good for you. She’s good for you. I’ve been trying to get you to get your damn shit together for a year so if having this bet with her is gonna make that happen, more power to you both.”

Tom looks at Harrison with wide eyes, stunned his friend is actually okay with this. Normally, Harrison would be completely against something like this. It’s a set up for people to get hurt. Harrison doesn’t want to see innocent people get hurt because Tom can’t keep his shit together. But he also hates seeing Tom get hurt and he doesn’t want to see Tom get hurt like he did before. So, Harrison agreeing with this, is both terrifying and relieving. A giant contradiction.

“Thanks, mate.” Tom thanks Harrison with a sincere glance.

“Yeah, well, I want BLT from Conrad’s tomorrow. You remember when I have lunch. Thanks.” Harrison gives Tom a toothy smile. 

Tom nods, his face showing his sarcasm while he sticks up his middle finger. “Yeah, fuck off.”


	9. fire and ice

The next day rolled around and Tom found himself at the little corner shop, a full five minutes early. It’s truly an accomplishment for him but he’s determined more than ever to make sure he proves himself right. However, when he goes to the backroom and there’s no sign of you, his heart falls to the pit of his stomach. Of course, Tom doesn’t actually know your schedule and you kind of have your anyway but Tom didn’t expect to ever arrive before you, on time or late. 

“Mr. y/l/n?” Tom starts as he approaches the fruit stand where your dad was fixing the sprinkler.

“Something wrong?” Your glances to Tom before his eyes go back to the sprinkler system.

“No, I was just wondering where y/n was.” Tom says politely, picking at his thumbnail.

Your dad’s brows furrow as his movements stop. His arms come down and one hand rest on his hip and his eyes narrow slightly when he faces Tom. The store apron covers his plain t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Tom’s demeanor even seems to be a bit calmer that he saw yesterday or the day before.

“She’ll be in later.” He says, gauging Tom’s reaction.

Tom nods and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Is everything okay?”

Your dad crosses his arms and stares Tom down, not trusting the innocent act he seems to be pulling. “Yes. Now, go clean the cooler. Supplies is in the back.”

“You don’t like me, do you?” Tom asks while your dad goes back to his work.

“No.” He says simply.

Tom nods and sucks on his teeth. It’s not a surprise and usually, someone like your dad disliking him wouldn’t matter but, this one time, it does. Your opinion matters and you’re close with your dad so your dad’s opinion means something to Tom. It has to. It’s not that he wants to suddenly pick up golf with him but Tom doesn’t want your dad to hate him. So, he just nods his head and goes to the back to get the cleaning supplies. Your dad watched as Tom held his tongue and went to cleaning the cooler. Tom’s a quick learner.

Tom finishes his cleaning and helps a few customers find what they needed, which actually means him and the customer roaming around the store and finding it together. But, the customers didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they all seemed quite fond of the British adult with a boyish smile. There was an elderly lady who just talked his ear off but Tom held a smile and kept the conversation and held her basket for her while she grabbed her vegetables and he helped her to the counter while your dad rang her up.

“You’re quite the people pleaser.” Your dad says once the last customer leaves.

“Yeah,” Tom says, flashing him a grin. “Trying.”

“Well, you’re doing well so keep it up.” Your dad swallows his pride to compliment Tom.

The bell above the glass door rings and you walk in, jeans and a heavy coat. “It’s cold.” You say lowly.

“It’s winter.” Your dad quips.

“Couldn’t tell from the salt trucks on the road.” You roll your eyes and make your way to your dad and Tom. “Miss anything?”

“Tom isn’t terrible at customer service.” Your dad smirks.

“Good to hear.” You giggle as you smile at Tom.

“Clock in and he’s all yours. I’ve got orders I have to fill.” Your dad smiles kindly at you while you go to the back and clock in, removing your winter clothing.

When you return up front, you swap places with your dad, taking up the register, laptop in hand and ready to go. But, Tom looks like he’s dying to say something, even from across the store where he was back to sweeping the floor. You raised a brow when you caught his eyes.

“Hey?” You say, a smile tugging at your lips.

“What’d ya want for lunch?” Tom blurts out.

“You lost, huh?” You giggle.

Tom shrugs a shoulder before leaning on the broom. “Ya know,” He says. “Gotta hold up my end.”

You shake your head. “What are you getting Harrison?” You ask, not wanting Tom to waste his entire break getting you food.

“Wants Conrad’s.” Tom rolls his eyes. “Kind of obsessed with the place.”

“Hey, Conrad’s has good food!”

“Not you, too!” Tom whines making you laugh.

“You need better taste, Holland. I’ll write down my order for you.” You get out a notepad from beneath the counter and as you start writing it down, Tom approaches you.

“So, where were you this morning?” He asks and you freeze, looking up to him with narrowed eyes.

“Home, why?”

“I just,” Tom shakes his head and the dark curls bounce around. “Figured you always be here before me.”

“No, I just wanted to take the morning and I’m here all the time so Dad doesn’t really mind.” You explain as you finish writing your order down and hand it to Tom, your hands lightly brushing together.

When Tom looks over the order, you take the time to look at his hands. His hands are so thin and veiny but his knuckles look like they’ve been met with cement. They’re cracked and yellow bruises decorate his skin, touches of red accenting the off-putting tint.

“What’d you do you to your hands?”

Tom looks to his hands, confusion written across his entire face. “Oh,” He says and puts the paper in his back pocket. “Blow off steam and go to the gym, box a bit.”

You nod, taking extra notice in his arms, noticing Tom actually had quite a bit muscle given his size. “Oh.” You say simply.

“Oh?” Tom chuckles.

“Yeah, happy it’s not a fight club or something.” You joke.

“Shh, first rule of fight club-”

“Don’t talk about fight club.” The two of you say in unison, Tom more serious while your voice was mocking.

The two of you laugh for a minute and there’s a sense of serenity in that moment. Tom’s trying so hard to prove himself and you’re keeping your suspicions up and center but when you’re laughing, both of your egos fly out of the window. You’re just two people who love the sound of each other’s laugh and whose hearts beat a little faster with sound and you’re just two people with no ultimatums or bets or anything to gain. You’re just two people existing in the same moment, together.

“You ever try?” Tom asks as the laughing subsides.

“Boxing?” You nearly yells. “No.” You laugh at the question.

“Why not?” Tom raises a brow and cocks his head to the left.

Your shoulders roll as your head shakes softly. “I don’t know.”

Tom bites the inside of cheek before gesturing his hand out. “Why don’t ya come with me today? Was gonna go after I get off, could teach ya.”

“Why?” Your face scrunches with the offer.

“Dunno.” Tom shrugs. “Could guess you’ve never taken a self-defence class and you could use it. Could be something we could do, ya know? Proving ya wrong.” Tom’s mouth twitches into a smirk with the last sentence.

“Always out to prove me wrong.”

“If I’m with you, I can’t be out doing whatever you think I do.” Tom quips as he licks his lips.

“You really think you’re charming, huh?” You scoff.

“Is that a yes?” Tom asks with hope in his eyes.

“You do it to blow off steam?” You ask, your smile faltering.

Tom nods and his smile follows suit. “Yeah, sometimes,” Tom takes a deep breath. “I get mad so I go and punch a bag, better than hitting people, I guess.”

“You guess?” You roll your eyes.

“Maybe it is better.” Tom says and he can’t help but smile again.

“Fine,” You sigh. “What do I need?”

“Nothing, just wear comfortable clothes and I got the tape.” Tom chimes, the relief and happiness evident in the way his brown eyes seem to lighten to a milk chocolate. “Got a membership and they’re open twenty-four, seven.”

“I’m gonna be exhausted tomorrow and it’s gonna be your fault.” You say shortly.

“I’ll take the blame.” Tom gives you a side smile and you blush immediately.

“Hey, what’d I say, Holland.” You warn but the smile tugging at your lips is telling Tom you really don’t mind the words or the look he gave you.

“Not flirting,” Tom says. “Being honest.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” You mumble.

“Probably.” Tom chuckles before going back to sweeping.

You open your laptop and go to Word, opening the document you’d been writing in but you found yourself watching Tom more than actually writing. You wanted to write, you want to get your writing done but Tom’s endearing and you can feel the warmth growing in your chest every time he looks to you through the few curls that’d fallen in front of his face. You can feel it in your bones and your cheeks.

Tom’s good at making people fall for him and it’s working. You know Tom is in this to prove a point but you can’t help the swarming butterflies or red cheeks. Or you wanting to get to know him and what his favorite color is. You’ll never need a drink in your life if Tom sticks around because that boy is the most intoxicating thing on this planet. But you’ll never tell  _him_  that. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Tom, on the other hand, there’s this mixture of ice and fire that runs through him with your smile and bashful eyes whenever he catches you staring. He knows, deep down under his cold, lifeless exterior, he knows you’re not like the rest and maybe that’s why he’s trying too hard. His subconscious is ready and Tom is just too hard headed to see it. Or maybe it’s that you don’t trust him as far you can throw him so how the hell is he supposed to trust you with anything.

There’s tranquility in your voice and in her presence but Tom’s too scared to sit down and take a good hard look at it. Then again, that’s the point because trusting people, even when someone doesn’t fuck them over, it’s a scary thing. So Tom’s blood runs cold with fear and it runs fire with infatuation.

The day came to a close and it went by fairly quick. Tom got your order correct, mostly because he looked it over a hundred times and then read it to cashier word for word to make sure he didn’t mess it up. Since the store happened to be empty, you ate up front so you could eat and talk with Tom. Come to find out, you both have quite a bit in common and you get along well, even when the rules of your bet aren’t discussed. You can talk about film and music and your mutual love for dogs. Hell, if it weren’t for the bet, you might have even started to flirt with him. This Tom, the one he’s showing you now, this is the one you could spend everyday with.

“My dad is going to throw a fit if I get hurt.” You say as Tom wraps your hands in athletic tape.

“You’re not gonna get hurt.” Tom says smoothly. “I’ll make sure of it.” You don’t say anything, instead you just keep your eyes on Tom. “Can ya still move your hands? Make fists fine?” You make fists with both your hands, the tape not too tight. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah, feels fine.” You nod and give Tom a nervous smile.

“C’mon, then.” Tom offers a hand to help you from the bench. You sigh and eye Tom. “I’m just helping ya up, calm down.”

You chuckle as you put your hand in Tom’s. “I feel like this is just some ploy so you can hold my hand.” You quip as you get to your feet.

“If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d have just done it.” Tom smirks and releases your hands, leading you to one of the large punching bags.

“I hate you.” You groan but there’s still a smile tugging at your lips.

“Prove it.” Tom says and there’s a devilish grin tugging at his lips. Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms. “I meant hit the bag, fuck’s sake.” Tom rolls his eyes and digs out his phone from his pocket. You watch him fumble with the screen in confusion before the light on the back of his phone turns on. He hands it turn you and you suck on your teeth, knowing what’s coming. “Lighten the fuck up.”

“Screw you.” You try your hardest to give Tom a dirty look but you just laugh and hand him his phone back. “That’s my joke.”

“And a horrible one at that.”

“Hey! You laughed!” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” Tom shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe I just laughed cause you did.” Tom scrunches his nose, teasing you, but it was the truth. He’d laugh at any joke you told.

“You really can’t help but flirt?” You say and normally, your face would fall into a form of annoyance but it doesn’t. Your eyes stay teasing and the soft smile doesn’t even budge.

“There’s a learning curve, what can I say?” Tom’s shoulders shrug and he puts on an innocent puppy look.

You shake your head and roll your eyes before looking at the bag. “What do I do?” Tom chuckles with your question.

“You hit it.”

You turn and send him a glare. “Gathered.”

“Here,” Tom walks in front of you and puts your up to your face, keeping them in the right position. He uses one of his feet to move your feet in the right position, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hold your hands there, keep your feet there so they’ll be planted and hold your balance. Punch the bag as hard as you can.” Tom says as he moves to the side.

You punch the bag but it doesn’t move at all. So you try again, and again, and again. Tom watches with a smirk, knowing you’re never going to get the bag to move but he’s fond of your determination. Your brows are knitted together and your mouth is pressed into a hard line, eyes locked on the bag. You just want the damn bag to move.

“It won’t move!” You complain as you punch again.

“I can help but you can’t yell at me.” Tom says, uncrossing his arms and moving behind you.

“I won’t yell at you if you help me.” You say, looking over your shoulder.

“Use your hips. You wanna move in with your wing.” Tom places his hands on your hips, your heart skipping a few beats with the contact. “Promise, this isn’t flirting.” Tom chuckles, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“Okay.” You say quietly.

“Go when you’re ready and I’ll help.” Tom says.

You go to hit the bag with your dominant hand and Tom pushes and pulls your hips to help the momentum. The bag just budges with the punch and a soft, proud smile comes to your face.

“Try again. You gotta have more strength than that.” Tom encourages.

You hit the bag again, Tom’s hands not leaving your hips with the movement. The bag moves just as it did before.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta be mad about something in the world. No one is as happy and cheery as your ass. What the hell gets you pissed off?” Tom says, leaning just over your shoulder as you look at him, your faces maybe a little too close so you can spell the spearmint gum Tom had been chewing on the way over.

“I don’t get mad.” You say quietly.

“Bullshit, everyone gets mad. C’mon, somethin’. Don’t have to tell me, just think of it and go.”

You take a deep breath and think for a second. Only a second because Tom’s right, no one is as happy and calm as you are. There’s always something boiling under the surface. You just choose to hold it because what is yelling and screaming going to do about it? It’s not going to fix your situation. It’s not going to make anything better. But, hell, if you can punch something, maybe that’ll help. Your arm flexes and you punch the bag, Tom moving your hips and it moves, really moves.

“Aye!” Tom cheers behind you. “There ya go. Again.”

You hit the bag and keep going, the bag moving everytime and you ignore the ache starting in your knuckle. You can hear the sounds of every word that’s been spoken to you since you were fifteen as if they were an echo in a cathedral. With every hit, one voice was silenced and a weight lifted from your shoulder. Tom might not have all the best coping mechanisms for whatever happened to him, but this is a damn good one.

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, your chest heaves with every breath you take and your arms feel like spaghetti.

“You did great.” Tom says with a smile, releasing your hips as you face him.

“Thanks.” You say, your breathing labored.

“You okay?” Tom asks as he looks at your flushed face and the way your chest is moving.

“Yeah, just,” You take another deep breath. “I don’t…work out.” You force a laugh.

“Here,” Tom places a hand on your back and walks you to the bench and has you sit with a waterbottle. “You catch your breath and I’ll unwrap your hands.” Tom sends you a gentle smile as he kneels between your legs and starts working on the tape.

You nod, taking deep breaths and watching Tom’s gentle movements. He’s good with people. It’s shocking really because he’s always seemed so rude to anyone he comes across, at least from what you can hear through the thin walls and your first impression but, he’s good. Your dad filled you in on how Tom handled customers that day and you actually felt proud of him. And yes, Tom is helping you so of course he’s going to be cool, calm, and collected but someone just doesn’t pick up helping someone like this. Tom is good with working with people.

“You can practice if you want. I’ll wait.”

“You sure?” Tom asks when he’s done unwrapping your hands. “Don’t have to.”

“No, I wanna watch. See how it’s done.” You bite your bottom lip with a soft smirk.

“If you say so.” Tom wiggles his brows and makes his way to the punching bag.

You watch Tom as you regain your breath and stretch out your knuckles. His hair is falling in front of his face and he grunts with every hit. The muscles of his biceps flex with every movement he makes and to say it’s fascinating and really attractive, would be an understatement. But, there’s more than just Tom being attractive while hitting a bag.

There’s focus in his eyes and determination in his labored breathing. This is how he lets out of steam. You can see by the way his eyes stay glued to the bag that everything else around him ceases to exist in that moment. It’s him and the bag. And then it hits you. You’re in way too deep, but you don’t plan on coming up for air anytime soon. You like this Tom and maybe you can get him to stay this way.

The night comes to an end and Tom walks you to your door once you’re back to your apartment complex. You’re both sweaty and gross and look a bit of mess but neither of you really care.

“What’d ya say we do this? If you’re okay with it?” Tom offers.

“Like? A few days a week?” You ask as you unlock your door.

“Everyday. I need something to keep distracting me and you seem to like it…” Tom’s voice trails off.

“Actually,” You face him and give him a happy smile. “I’d really like that but you can’t tell my dad. He’ll freak out.”

“I won’t.” Tom promises. “Well, see you at work then.”

“You’re off tomorrow.” You remind.

“Gotta bring you lunch.” Tom counters.

“Right,” You say, “Forgot about that. I’ll text you my order then. Could get used to you bringing me lunch.”

“Don’t get too used to it. Only a week.” Tom chuckles, running a hand through his messy curls.

“Well, then, guess we’ll have to play another game of Bullshit.” You quip.

“You’re on.” Tom agrees and gestures his hand out.

“Not gonna wave this time.”

“Fuck off.” Tom groans while you shake his hand.

“Goodnight, Holland.”

“Goodnight, y/n.” Tom smirks as you enter your apartment.

The two of you spent your nights with child-like smiles and thumping hearts, high on adrenaline and the sense of new feelings. While dreading actual feelings, Tom finds himself feeling safe and he can’t peel the smile from his face or the warmth from his hand. And you can’t seem to rid the goosebumps everytime you think of Tom’s hands on your hips and his breath on your neck. The two of you were basically free falling which made the next few days way more fun.

Tom kept his flirting to a minimum but you upped yours. Tom knew you were flirting and he loved it. There’s confidence in your flirting with him and it’s adorable and beautiful and amazing. He’s not the one doing the flirting this time, it’s you and he can’t tell if it’s because you’re trying to get him to cave and flirt back or if you really like him. He chooses not to ask but rather, enjoy it.

The two of you spent your nights after work at the gym, Tom teaching you boxing techniques and you just looking into getting your own membership. Instead of all the encouraging talk the first night had, the past few days lead to more banter and the two of you trying to one-up the other. Tom always came out on top but that didn’t stop you from trying. If anything, it gave you more fire.

Now, it’s officially, one week into your and Tom’s bet. You went to the gym as usual but Harrison was waiting for Tom when you two got back. It’d been five days since they’d had a night out so they were going out. With a taunting look, you left the boys to have their night. This was really the test on if Tom could hold his own. You were certain you’d be woken up by a banging headboard and your heart sunk with the thought of it but that’s not what happened.

Your phone rang on your nightstand and without even looking at the caller ID, you picked up and mumbled a “hello.”

“Y/n?” The voice asked.

“Who is this?” You mumbled, pulling the phone from your head noticing it had Tom’s name on display as well a quarter after three in the morning.

“Harrison.” Harrison answered, his voice wavered with the single word.

“It’s three in the morning, why are you calling me? Is everything okay?” You ask, still trying to open your eyes correctly.

“It’s Tom.” Harrison says, his voice too quiet for your comfort.

“What?” You ask as your breath catches in your throat.

“I’m gonna text you the address but just get here, now.” Harrison says quickly.

“What happened?” You ask.

“Just. Get here.” Harrison says sternly before the line goes dead.


	10. stitches

It’s loud for a Tuesday night. There’s not music playing tonight thanks to the Rangers game but the bar is still loud. People are yelling and chatting, not just about the game and how the Rangers are totally gonna have their season this time. People are rambling about anything and everything, including Tom and Harrison who were happily sat at their own table. The two had tall glasses of beer, ready for consumption and a real night out. There’s a lingering thought of you in the back of Tom’s head and he hasn’t looked at a single girl because of it, unbeknownst to him anyway. If anyone asked, Tom would probably think it’s just because he hasn’t been out with Harrison in a bit. But, it’s both no matter how much he wants to try and deny it.

“How’s the bet going?” Harrison smirks, taking a drink from his beer. **  
**

“Good, why?” Tom asks, quirking a brow with suspicion.

Harrison shrugs. “You’re not supposed to fall in love with her, right?” Harrison teases.

“Says I’m falling?” Tom counters.

“We’ve been here three hours, you’re not pissed, you’ve not picked a fight, and you’ve not even looked at the hot redhead who’s been eyeing you all bloody night.”

Tom moves his stare to the strawberry blonde who was seated at a table diagonal of theirs. Her cheeks tinted pink but she gave Tom a mischievous grin. She’s cute, beautiful even and any other night, Tom would be taking a big drink from his glass and making his way over to her, sure he was going to get laid. But, tonight, he smiled and looked back to Harrison, sipping on his second beer of the night.

“C’mon, she said you didn’t have to stay abstinent.” Harrison pushes, his voice is teasing but it’s mostly because he wants Tom to just admit it to himself.

Harrison knows Tom like the back of his hand and he knows Tom’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Tom’s never even spoken about someone the way he talks about you. The first time you went boxing together, Tom didn’t stop talking to Harrison about it the following day. He explained what happened and how he got you to go with him, his hands were expressive and the smile danced crossed his face. Tom was falling faster and harder by the second and Harrison knew full and well that if Tom didn’t start admitting it, you weren’t going to be there to catch him.

“Just making sure I don’t fuck up is all.” Tom says nonchalantly, ignoring the skip of his heart.

“How long are you gonna keep lying to yourself?” Harrison says, his voice showing the slightest touch of frustration.

“Not lying, mate.” Tom leans back in his chair but there’s a cheesy grin on his face.

Harrison went to laugh but the bar door opened and his face fell in seconds. He watched as the people entered and took their seats at the bar. Harrison’s heart started to pound in his ears and anxiety consumed his veins, not for him, but for Tom.

“I know you never listen to me and you’ve essentially made it your life’s goal to do the fuckin’ opposite of whatever I tell you, but please, can we leave?” Harrison asks and Tom looks at him with confusion, Harrison’s expression showing his sudden distaste for the area they were in.

“Why?” Tom asks, already gathering why Harrison would want to leave so soon.

“We should. Don’t have to go back. We should just go somewhere else.”

“Haz,” Tom’s mouth is pressed into a straight line. “Why?”

“Listen to me for once in your fucking life and don’t turn around. Let’s go.”

“It’s her, innit?” Tom asks, his blood starting to boil as the memory starts to fade into place.

“C’mon.” Harrison jerks his head towards the back exit. “Can go out that way and act like-”

“No, this isn’t her fuckin’ territory and I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ leave ‘cause she’s here. Bullshit.” Tom’s voice raises and his hands clench into fists so tight his knuckles turn white.

“Boyfriend.” Harrison mutters. “And his friends, acting like bodyguards.”

“Well, fuck me.” Tom mumbles and rolls his eyes, taking maybe too big of a drink of his beer.

-

-

Your thumbs tapped your steering wheel and your heart raced so fast your head was dizzy. It was surely unsafe for you to drive but hearing Harrison’s voice waver on the phone, it sent shivers down your spine and turned your stomach.

It’s three in the damn morning and you’re driving to a bar without any information on why. All you know is that it involves Tom. The only thing you even care about right now is making sure he’s okay. How bad could it possibly be if they’re at a bar? If it were so bad, surely, the two would be at a hospital. Harrison seemed the type to either be able to convince Tom to go or just knock him out himself and drag Tom there. But, when you got to the bar, you saw the two against a wall and your heart about hit the surface.

You parked, poorly, and got out of your car, slamming the door shut and not caring about the snow that was starting to fall. As you got closer, you could see Harrison kneeling with a hand on Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s knees are pulled up to his chest while his back is against the graffiti brick wall and his head is hung, the bill of his hat covering his face.

“Tom?” You ask, not caring that your concern was showing.

Harrison is first to make eye contact and you can’t tell if Harrison is disappointed or worried, hell, maybe he’s both. It’s hard to tell when it’s about Tom. But, then Tom looks up at you and your stomach completely flips.

Blood. Lots and lots of blood. There’s blood coming from where his hat meets his forehead and there’s a large gash on his cheek. The very edge of his lips is split open so much so you question if it’ll start tearing like paper. One of his eyes is swelling and there’s blood streaming from his nose, over his mouth. Blood stained the blue hoodie that complimented his pale skin tone. He’s a mess.

You move to your knees in front of Tom, his eyes never leaving you. “What happened?” You ask with a shallow voice as you lightly put your hands on his face.

You’re not even sure why you did it, but it felt right, something to do to try and express you were there, even though you weren’t even sure if Tom you wanted to be there. Or if you were called out of desperation.

“Long story.” Tom mumbles and he doesn’t move away from your touch and his eyes are starting to gloss over. “We-we gotta get out of here.” Emotional rawness coated his words.

“Okay, yeah.” You take your now bloody hands off his face and put them on your knees to help you stand up, not caring about staining your pajama pants.

Once you’re to your feet, you and Harrison help Tom to his feet. One of Tom’s arms hung over your shoulder and the other over Harrison’s shoulder as you walk Tom to the car. You opened the back door for Tom to be able to lay down. You shut the door and stared at Harrison, waiting for an explanation but Harrison dodged your eyes, looking at his bloodied clothes.

“Harrison?” You ask. “He needs a hospital.”

“No!” Harrison yells, something that seemed to be uncharacteristic for the calm friend. “Sorry,” Harrison quickly apologizes, looking at the blood on his hands. “If we go, he doesn’t have insurance and…” Harison trails off. “They’ll call the cops, took me a bit to get the manager not to call already. If the cops get called for this, they’re gonna lock him up.”

“What did you two just get me into?” Your eyes widen as you glance into the window before moving to your trunk.

“It’s a long-”

“Story. I got that.” You say, getting snippy while you grab a roll of paper towels and slam the trunk shut. “But he’s not gonna tell me and if you don’t, I’m taking him to the hospital. You called me.” You say as you open the car door. “Here, put something on your face to try and get one of the cuts to stop bleeding.” Tom leans up, groaning in pain, sending an ache through your heart as he takes the white paper and lays back down. “Please.” You say, shutting the door.

Harrison shakes his head, looking up to the sky, the snow starting to fall harder. “He wanted me to call you.”

“Why didn’t he call me himself?” Your heart picks up with his Harrison’s words. Why would he want to call you? You’re the one most likely to toss him out on his ass.

Harrison stares at you and lets out a sigh, clearly not wanting to say anything. “You saw the way he looked at you. Do I need to tell you?”

You shake your head, looking back at Tom as his body lightly shakes. “No.” You say shortly. Tom looked guilt-ridden and broken, like he was going to burst into tears the second his eyes fell on you. But, he also looked relieved like his saving grace just showed up. “Tell me what happened though, please.” You plead.

“I can’t tell you everything but I’ll tell you some…if you can take us home because it’s cold and he needs to get cleaned up. I-” Harrison stutters for a second. “I think it’s worse than what we think.”

“What?” You ask, a lump coming to your throat.

“I’d have taken us home but we were both going to be drinking so we left the cars at the flat and-”

“Harrison.” You make your voice as stern as possible, which wasn’t stern at all.

“Get us to the flat and I’ll explain.” Harrison rolls his eyes and makes way to the passenger seat.

You stand there for a second, looking up at the sky, as if to staring it down and questioning why  _this_  is your life. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be sucked up into whatever these two got themselves into. But, here you are. And the worst part? You’re driving them back and your heart is aching with every whine and groan that leaves Tom’s mouth. It’s getting close to four in the morning and you’re supposed to work and you’re stuck driving Tom back home. Hoping this isn’t something horrible but deep down, you know it is.

There are a few reasons why people call at three in the morning. They love you, they’re lonely, or they’re in serious trouble. But serious trouble shouldn’t be bleeding out in the backseat of a car. It shouldn’t be blood and swelling faces with no explanation. It shouldn’t be having to leave as soon as possible and hospitals being out of the question. Insurance or not. What was this?

You reach the apartment complex and Harrison and you help Tom from the car and up the stairs which proved to be quite the feat. Lucky for you, Tom’s groans weren’t loud enough to wake up any of your neighbors. You get Tom into the bathroom and he leans against the white wall connecting to the tub.

“Okay,” You start. “I’m gonna go next door and grab some supplies to try and help.” You say, your eyes land on Tom even though you were mostly talking to Harrison.

Harrison nods but before you can leave, Tom’s hand reaches out and tugs the loose fabric of the bottom of your pajama pants. “Hurry.” Tom’s voice was raw and cracked.

“Yeah, yeah, right back. I promise.” You nod and move as quick as you can to your apartment.

“C’mon, get the damn thing off.” Harrison bent down to try and help Tom out of his hoodie.

“Fuck off.” Tom squeaked.

Harrison sighed. “You got the fuck beat out of you. I’m trying to help you twat.” Harrison grits his teeth.

“‘s fine.” Tom mumbles, taking his hat off with a weak and shaky hand.

“Fuck’s sake.” Harrison nearly gasps at the side of the gash.

“Don’t tell her.” Tom pleads as Harrison gets Tom a wet wash rag.

“Mate, she’s gonna think-” Harrison starts to talk above the running water.

“I fucked up,” Tom’s voice starts to shake as his eyes start to burn. “I fucked up and I dunno how to fix it but hearin’ it from you isn’t gonna help. Please don’t tell her.” Tom pleads as Harrison bends down next to him, handing him the rag. Tom’s chest starts to rise a little faster and his lips are just quivering enough for Harrison to notice, almost as if panic were setting in.

That’s all Harrison needed. Tom’s too beat up for Harrison to argue with him and this is the broken and beat up Tom you need to see. You have to see for yourself what you’re getting yourself into. It’s not Harrison’s job to always pick up the pieces and play off Tom’s actions, no matter how many times he’s done it or how many times he’s been willing to do it.

But, even then, if Tom changed his mind, Harrison would fix this. No idea how, but he would. However, he wouldn’t do it because this wasn’t another Tom fuck up. Another Tom episode of pent of anger or drunken oblivion. So Harrison would do it because he’s never seen his friend plead like this. To protect someone’s feelings.

“Gotta tell her something, but I won’t say much. Got my word.” Harrison promises, pulling Tom’s hand away from his hand to check the bleeding.

“Owe you.” Tom says, his voice showing his gratitude.

“You owe me your entire life.” Harrison quips, letting Tom go back to holding pressure on his forehead. Tom laughs which is only followed by a cough and more groaning.

“Fuck, stop.” Tom’s free hand falls to his right ribs. “Fuckin’ hurts.”

“Sure it does.” Harrison states. “Gonna help y/n, stay here.”

“Yeah, cause I’m in good shape to move.” Tom retorts, his voice weak while his head falls back against the wall.

“You’re still annoying.” Harrison shrugs as if to be in disbelief before leaving the bathroom.

The second he exits the apartment, he runs right into you. You nearly drop your entire basket of first aid supplies and your cheeks are slightly tear-stained, your eyes pink. You sniffle and shake your head to try and hide your distraught state.

“He’s okay.” Harrison says. “He will be, anyway.” Harrison corrects himself.

“You sure?” You ask, looking up through your eyelashes.

“No,” Harrison shakes his head. “But, it’s Tom. Kind of like a damn cockroach, probably couldn’t kill ‘im if you tried.”

“Yeah,” You say, your eyes going to your shoes, your peripheral vision catching the blood on your pants.

“Right, okay, I’m gonna rush this because I don’t think Tom needs me here. He wants you. So, he didn’t fuck up. He’s going to tell you he did. So, I’m asking as his friend, don’t give up on him.” Harrison’s eyes scan your face.

“What?” You ask, your mouth barely even moving with the word.

“The bet, I know about it and it’s the last thing any of us should be thinking about but it will come up. As his friend, I’m begging you not to give up on him. This was different. He’s not drunk. He didn’t even take a second glance at a girl tonight. He had one shot and three beers.  _This fight, wasn’t his fault_.” Harrison tries to get everything out in one breath, showing his real worry for Tom.

Harrison knows that if you leave, which you have every right to do, it’ll crush Tom. Harrison is more than certain his friend can’t go through another spiral. You aren’t like the other girls and even though this will give you a way out, Tom will think you are. You’ll be another person who walked out when it got a little scary and a little rough.

“I-I-I-” You furrow your brows and shake your head. “I don’t understand.”

“Just, there’s more to this than he’s going to tell you.” Harrison sighs. “And it’s not my business to tell you but fucking trust me and please, give him another chance.  _You_  make  _him better_.”

“This wasn’t his fault?” You just need the confirmation.

“If it was, I’d tell you. I would, I promise.” Harrison says with sincerity in every single word, his bright blue eyes drenched with honesty. Harrison believed in keeping his word with his friend but he didn’t believe in setting people for getting hurt. “I think you’re a good person and I don’t think you could kill a fly so I’m gonna tell you to be careful because it’s Tom.” Harrison says but you hang onto every word, sensing he’s not done. “I’m also going to tell you to be careful  _ **because it’s Tom**_.” His lips purse with the change of tone. He went from stern with his warning to you but it immediately changed to deep concern with his second phrase.

Be careful because Tom can’t get hurt again. Harrison’s protective expression told you all you needed to know. Your most important rule rings in your head like a church bell on Sunday morning.

“But that means he’d have to like me and that’s-”

“A fucked up rule you made for fuck knows why.” Harrison cuts you off. “But if you really felt that way, you wouldn’t be out here listening to me go about him and you wouldn’t have picked up the bloody phone.” Harrison looks you up and down, but not to degrade you, just to put emphasis on his next phrase. “You wouldn’t have his blood on you and you wouldn’t have been crying.”

You stare at Harrison for a few seconds. He’s right. But he’s wrong. You don’t want Tom to like you or love you or anything. You’re okay with being friends but you don’t want him to feel anything more. You  _can’t_  let him feel anything more because you don’t want to hurt him. It’s obvious Tom is broken and yeah, it’s probably from some girl maybe more than one but that doesn’t make it any better. You don’t want to be another girl on the list of people who have left him the way he is. Left him getting into fights and drinking and screwing anyone he can just to treat them like utter shit afterwards. You don’t want to be responsible for that but if you deny that, doesn’t that make you just as bad as everyone else?

“I’m not saying he likes you so don’t tell him that.” Harrison gives you an exasperated sigh.

“We never even spoke.” You say, forcing a smile as you go for the door.

“No, we did. I told him I was gonna talk to you. But, uh, I just told you that this wasn’t his fault and if he wanted to tell you, he would.” Harrison nods, now allowing you to open the door to Tom’s apartment.

“Okay.” You say simply. “It was dumb of you to leave him alone.” You state, changing subjects as the two of you enter.

You and Harrison go to the bathroom where Tom is in the same position Harrison left him in, blood-drenched rag now being held with both of his hands with his hung head. Blood was dripping between his legs onto the floor from his nose. Tom glanced to the of you without moving barely moving his head.

“Can go, Haz.” Tom mumbled, pulling his head up from his hands and taking the rag from his face, grimacing at the bloodstained white.

“What?” Harrison nearly yells as you go to sit next to Tom.

“Have to work, ya?” Tom asks before he starts coughing, immediately followed by a groaned whine.

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving your ass.” Harrison rolls his eyes, leaning against the door frame.

“What time do you have to work?” You ask as you pull Tom’s hand away from his face.

“Nine.” Harrison says.

“Go home. I’ll call you if something happens.” You say, looking to him. “I got him.” You nod giving Harrison a look that said you understood what your talk in the hall was and you were fine with taking on the responsibly of Tom.

“Fine, Haz.” Tom urges.

“Alright,” Harrison sighs reluctantly. “Call if something happens. He’s my best mate, you know?” Harrison looks to you.

“I don’t think I could possibly do any more damage.” You loo over your shoulder with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” Harrison nods. “I’ll stop by tomorrow on my lunch.” Harrison says and before Tom could fight it, Harrison sent him a glare and Tom didn’t bother arguing. His energy was shot and Harrison was going to stop by no matter what came out of Tom’s mouth.

Harrison left leaving you and Tom to yourselves. The bathroom fell painfully silent. You wanted to bombard Tom with questions, wanted to demand he give you an explanation as to why it’s quarter after four in the morning and you’re sitting beside him, prepping to clean his wounds. Why the hell he called you. You wanted answers more than almost anything.

Tom, on the other hand, kept his eyes on you with the throbbing of his face and head, the ache of his ribs turning his stomach. He felt guilty, so fucking guilty for this. He knew you had to work but he wanted you. He needed you to come because if not, he was going to lose it. And he needed a reminder of what it’s like to not be in so much pain.

You’re kind of like his cure, better than lidocaine or novocaine. When you’re around, he forgets all the shit people did to him and the shit people say to him. Tom forgets and everything is tolerable and happy and calm, it’s nice and soft and warm. There’s no more pain. Tom needed you more than anything.

But, he fucked up and it’s sitting in the back of his head that you’re just going to fix up his face and then leave and the only reason you’re even sitting beside him right now is for your own conscience. If you leave and something happens, you’ll blame yourself. Tom can’t help but think that’s because all he did let you down. He cares about you and the one time he was trying not to fuck it up, he did.

“So, I’m just going to try and clean what I can.” You say softly, swapping out the blood covered rag with disinfectant covered gauze. He winced and his eyes slammed shut. “I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I’ll try and be fast.” You say and your voice is almost as broken as Tom’s nose. You finished cleaning that one wound as you noticed the look of utter discomfort on Tom’s face. “This is a really bad position for you, isn’t it?” You ask hesitantly.

“Not too bad.” Tom says.

“Saw you grab your ribs and if turning hurts, you shouldn’t do it.” You says, glancing to Tom’s ribs and back to him.

“Yeah, they’re, uh,” Tom swallows a harsh lump. “They hurt.”

“Here.” You take a deep breath and move to Tom’s legs. “Your legs okay?” Tom nods. “If it starts hurting-”

“You’re fine.” Tom says as you straddle his legs, which turned out to be a better position for the both of you.

“Okay.” You say with a deep breath while your cheeks turn a deep red.

You get a few butterfly stitches and start applying them to Tom’s forehead, your warm breath on his skin causes goosebumps to rise on the back of his neck. You were leaning into him, making sure you placed them in the right spot and correctly. Your close proximity caused Tom’s breathing to hitch and for a few seconds, he could ignore the throbbing of the back of his head that was probably a concussion.

“You okay?” You ask as you lean back.

“Fine.” Tom says simply. “You?” He asks.

“I’m not bloody.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well,” Tom glances to your hoodie and your pajama pants.

“I’m not bleeding.” You correct yourself while you lean for more gauze and the bottle of disinfectant.

“How bad does your head hurt?” You ask as you move to the gash on his cheek, Tom hissing in response. “Sorry.”

“Fuckin’ bad.” Tom mumbles. “Feels like I got the shit beat out of me.” Tom chortles.

“You’re funny.” You quip. “Really, though, can you see straight? Know what day it is? All that?”

“Yeah, just hurts.” Tom says, his eyes watching your face.

“Nauseous?” You ask.

“Bit.” Tom says.

“Think you might have a concussion?”

“Probably.” Tom keeps the one-word answers, causing you to pull away and look at him with concern.

“Really, you okay?”

Tom hesitates for a few seconds. Is he really okay? The girl who’s causing his stomach to do flips in the best way is sitting on his legs stitching up his cuts caused by the last people he trusted. Is he okay? Nope.

“Yeah.” He says. “Tired.”

“You can sleep when I’m done but I gotta wake you up every two to three hours for the next 12 or 24 hours.” You ramble softly, going back to cleaning.

Tom chuckles slightly, a groan following. “Why do you know that?”

“I write. Sometimes I have look things up. Concussions, how to survive a gunshot, survive a fire, I don’t know. Stuff like that.”

Tom manages a smile at your rambling. “Can I read something?” Tom asks softly.

“No!” You scoff, grabbing more butterfly stitches.

“Why not?” Tom asks with innocence.

“Because.” You laugh. “It’s private.” You say, holding a smile as you lean back into Tom, this time, his bruised hands finding your hips.

You freeze for a second but then continue, a wave of relief flowing over Tom at the risk he took. Truthfully, he did it because he was tired of holding his hands at his side, it felt awkward and he was far too aware of their just sitting. At least with them on your hips, they’re holding something,  _someone_.

“One day?” Tom’s voice rings in your ears different than it had before. There’s so much innocence in it, more innocent than you thought Tom was capable of.

“Maybe.” You pulled away just enough for Tom get a better look at your cornered smile. “Now, let me finish your face.” You say, a giggle escaping your lips while you move onto the nasty cut at the corner of Tom’s mouth.

The bathroom falls silent again but this time, it’s a peaceful silence. It’s comfortable and maybe this is the moment. The moment people talk about when they meet their person and they know. Because, Tom, he’s watching you with such precision it’s amazing you haven’t noticed.

When you finished addressing the wounds on his face, you got a clean wash rag and started cleaning the blood from the rest of his face, including under his nose that had finally stopped bleeding. As you dabbed the rag to his face, your eyes locked with his and it seemed like everything stopped for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to cry and for no one particular reason but the other part, the other part just wanted to grip Tom’s face or wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, never letting go.

His eyes have these little gold specks you hadn’t noticed before. They’re intriguing and you were never a fan of brown eyes before. They’re brown, that’s it but these gold specks, they’re like hidden secrets, hidden secrets Tom is letting you see, something very few people get to do. What you would do to know all his secrets from his eyes alone.

And for the first time, Tom, doesn’t want sex. He doesn’t want it or need it. He just his forehead pressed against your shoulder and his arms around you. He wants to tell you that you’re like coming up for air when he’s been drowning over this past year. You’re like coming for fucking air and he wants to scream it as loud as he can but he’s quiet as you go back to cleaning his face.

There’s a difference between being numb and something being able to  _take_  pain away. Being numb is horrible. There’s nothing to  _feel_. It’s just, there. There’s this lingering almost, of where pain should be or an ache but nothing. And there’s nothing in your head, just a bit of static. You can’t seem to smile or even keep your head focused on one thing because the static just overrides everything. It’s uncomfortable and careless. It’s fucking careless.

But, then there’s an alleviator. It takes the pain away not just puts on a band-aid on it and hopes for the best. That’s what you are. Tom’s eyes stay on you and there’s no more pain in his head and there’s no pain in on his face. Nothing. The only place he feels even the slightest bit of pain is in his chest and it’s only because he wants you so fucking bad he can’t even stand it. But he knows his boundaries and he can sit through this pain. He can live with this pain for the rest of his life if you will keep being his alleviator for everything else.

“Um,” You hold your breath for a second and your cheeks are a vibrant red. “Take your hoodie and shirt off.”

Tom laughs, coughing and groaning followed as pattern would have it. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Well, we all know you’re seducable.” You quip, biting your bottom lip, proud of your remark.

“Am I?” Tom asks.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Fuck off.” Tom mumbles but his smile is vibrant.

“I want to check your ribs, loser.”

Tom’s smile falls as he nods. His hands fall from your hips and he leans up, a horrible groan falling from his mouth, immediately followed by a whimper when he goes to take his hoodie off. You help get the heavy material over his head, tossing it to the side. You see a patch of red seeping through his grey t-shirt and your heart just aches all over again. Tom follows your stare and he looks at you with guilt-ridden eyes. His arms go to the back of his neck to pull his shirt over his head but you stop him. You grab the hems of his shirt and help pull it off that way, the groaning leaving Tom’s mouth not nearly as loud or painstaking.

Your eyes scan over Tom’s toned abdomen but don’t linger, far more concerned with the gash on his side than his physique. “Wow.” You say.

“Bad?” Tom asks, not wanting to look.

“The ones on your face are worse.” You reassure, looking back to Tom. “It’s more,” You pause for a second. “I’m not a doctor.”

“What is it?” He asks.

“It’s already black and blue, maybe you broke a rib.” You say with a scrunched nose, expressing your uncertainty.

“Fuck.” Tom sighs and looks to his side, moving his arm out of the way. “Yeah, probably.” He mumbles.

“If it starts getting worse, will you go to a hospital? If it’s broken, it could puncture your lung or your heart or something.” You say and your brows are knitted together with worry.

Tom’s first response is to start in on the no’s and excuses, to convince you he was fine and he’d broken plenty of ribs before. This wasn’t that big of a deal. But your eyes made a lump form in his throat and his breath was caught in his throat. How could he tell you no with a look so broken?

“I promise.” He says and holds up a weak, bloody hand to give lock his pinky with yours.

You give him a sad smile but take his pinky in yours, locking the promise. You share timid smiles before you move from your spot on Tom’s legs and to his side so you could bandage it. Tom’s legs felt empty without you sitting on them but your warm hands against his side seemed to make up for it, even with the stinging pain of the disinfectant. You apologized, just as you did before but Tom just nodded, letting you finish up. This time, instead of butterfly stitches, you grabbed the Ace bandage and some gauze and wrapped Tom’s side which proved to be more difficult than you expected.

Tom had to lean up form the wall and sit up straight while you maneuvered the bandage around his waist. You had to make sure it wasn’t too tight but tight enough to make sure the bleeding would stop. And you needed to be careful in case a rib was broken. The last thing you wanted to do was move a broken rib and end up hurting Tom more than he already was. But, even then, Tom didn’t complain. He let out a few groans and swears but that was it. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth when you finally finished.

“Finally.” You both say in unison, sharing a smile as you lean against the sink counter.

“Thank you.” Tom says.

“Happy to help.” You say, your eyelids start to droop with the crashing adrenaline.

“Hey, uh,” Tom starts. “Got clothes in my room you can borrow if you want,” Tom pauses for a second. “If you don’t want to go back home anyway. You have my blood over you.”

You look to your pants and hoodie, laughing to yourself. You loved those pants and that hoodie but now they’re stained in Tom’s blood. They’re stained in the blood of someone you had a horrible opinion of just a week before. Choices.

“Not flirting.” Tom clarifies when you don’t answer.

You shake your head and lock eyes with Tom. “You can flirt.”


	11. parachute

Flirting, that’s a rule and you’re just tossing it out the window with a soft sigh and a gentle smile. Why? Why would you just toss it out? Maybe it’s the concussion or Tom’s beaten up face or his bruised side. Maybe it’s the moment that’s given you a change of heart. Or maybe, you want him to and Tom’s praying to someone he’s not even sure he believes in that it’s because you want him to flirt. You want him to fall for you because he can’t help it. It feels like he’s just been pushed out of a plane to skydive and you’re his parachute. 

“This a test?” Tom narrows his bad eye at you.

You simply shake your head and shrug one shoulder. “No test.” You take in a deep breath as if you had more to say, but you just close your eyes and go silent.

“What?” Tom asks.

“Just…” You peak an eye open and you hate yourself for the way your heart skips and melts all at once by just looking at the battered boy. “No falling in love with me.”

Tom licks his lips that are a little too dry and he nods. “Okay.” Truthfully, he thinks that part of the bet is ridiculous but he’s going to take what he can get.

“Good.” You smile at him and push yourself away from the counters. “We should probably get you to the couch.” You stand up and tower over Tom. “Or, if you could tell me where your clothes are.” You giggle shyly with the statement.

Tom smirks and nods. “Room at the end of the hall. Bottom drawer and second drawer from the top.”

“Stay and I’ll get you clothes.”

“Thanks.” Tom says.

You go to the room at the end of the hall, the door open showing Tom’s bed. The comforter is a navy blue with a plaid pattern. His headboard is black as well as the furniture that decorates his room. There are no articles of clothing that litter the floor or really anything that would make the room look even the slightest bit of a mess. The only things that seem even sort of out place is a Gatorade bottle on his nightstand and a pair of red and black NIKEs in front of his closet. You’re a little surprised to see his room so clean. Tom’s a mess, literally, so you expected his bedroom to show that, but no. It’s actually kind of nice.

You move to the large dresser in front of Tom’s bed and goes to the second drawer from the top and grab two shirts. He very clearly likes grey and black and athletic brands because that’s the majority of what’s in his drawer. You’re not going to complain though because athletic clothing is always super comfortable. You move to the bottom drawer and grab the top two pairs of pajama pants that happen to be the same pair just in different colors, one blue and one red.

There’s a part of you that genuinely expected to find a picture of Tom and old girlfriend in a drawer. Like in the movies, just when two people start to make progress, something comes to burn it all to the ground. But, you didn’t and your heart spun with relief and happiness, more hope and faith that you made the right choice in telling Tom he could flirt. Giving Tom permission to flirt is giving him permission to like you and it’s giving yourself permission to like him. The last thing you want is for that to blow up in either of your faces.

You walk to the bathroom and hand Tom his change of clothes. You watch as he goes to put his shirt over his head, finding it hard not to stare at the way his muscles move. How are they even real? Sure, you know he works out and he’s fit but his abs don’t even seem real. He’s slouching and they’re still partially defined. And who the hell has muscle like that on their side?

“Take a picture, darlin’.” Tom quips, feeling your eyes on him, struggling to get the shirt over his head.

“I’ll let you keep struggling.” You retort but your voice is quieter than you wanted it to be, giving away your flustered state at being caught staring.

“I don’t need a shirt.” Tom comes right back, resting the shirt in his lap.

“I said you can flirt I didn’t mean you had to go all out here.” You laugh in disbelief but you’re not even mad because he’s endearing and there’s not the arrogance he had before. Instead, he has a goofy grin and his eyes, while tired as hell, are more playful and sarcastic. He’s flirting but he’s not doing it to get anything from you. He’s just doing it for fun.

“I don’t usually sleep in a shirt to be fair.” Tom chuckles softly before groaning.

“Maybe you should stop laughing.”

“Yeah.” Tom nods and rests his head on the wall again.

The bathroom falls silent and you find yourself twiddling with fabric in your hands. You want to stay with him and talk all night if he can muster the energy but you know you need to sleep soon and sleep well otherwise you’ll be exhausted for the next two days, literally. Your dad will worry as to why you don’t want to come in and offer to come visit on his lunch after he calls Tom and figures out Tom can’t in to cover your shift. That won’t look good which just means he’ll call Frankie and Frankie will cover the shop and he’ll pop by out of the blue. It just doesn’t sound like something you want to deal but, it’s Tom.

It’s Tom and you’ve never seen someone as broken as him and he’s injured. Who would you be if you left him? You promised Harrison you wouldn’t so you need to keep that promise. It’s just a bit scary to stay overnight with him, in the same place. In his clothes. And that’s just the ice of a very big iceberg.

Tom’s groaning pulls you from your thoughts. You drop the clothes to floor and go for Tom’s biceps, helping him get up as his one hand is pressed against the wall. He freezes with your freezing hands on his skin. His eyes lock with yours and the tempting smirk isn’t there like you expected. It’s just the same look that’s drenched in everything he won’t say and everything he wants to, everything he wants to do.

“Thanks.” He says as you both reposition, your hands just gracing over his torso while he stands all the way up, pulling them way quickly and now prying your eyes from his exposed chest. Tom chuckles at the ‘wow’ expression on your face. “Thought I’d be the one staring.”

“Shut up, please.” You groan and throw your head back.

There’s a snicker that leaves his mouth as Tom moves past you. “You can change, meet ya in the living room.”

“Okay.” You say, taking a breath.

Tom limps out of the bathroom, favoring his right side while his hand holds his ribs and the other holds the pajama pants and shirt you had given him. You take another deep breath and lean against the wall, a few tears falling. It’s a lot. It’s just a lot and there’s no other reason.You just care so much about this stupid boy with curly hair and brown eyes that remind you of Jupiter. There’s more to every story and everyone has thing story don’t read out loud because it’s none of their messiness but you fucking hopes so much that Tom will read every chapter to you. And maybe if he can do it, you can do it too because the only person who knows all of your chapters is your mom. And it gets lonely.

You change quickly before heading out to the living room, your bloody clothes in hand. Tom is sitting on the couch, TV playing softly and lighting up the darkened living room. You put your folded and bloody clothes by the door where you finally kick your shoes off. When you make your way into the living room, Tom turns his head and sends you what could only be a timid smile. You return it and take a seat a few feet away.

“Got a shirt on.” You look to him, taking notice in his torso covered by the grey fabric.

“Yeah,” Tom barely chuckles. “Wasn’t much fun.”

“You okay?” You ask and Tom just takes a deep breath.

“Aside from feeling like I’ve got my face smashed in, yeah.” The cut corner of his mouth rises and you feel the sting in your heart return.

The living room falls silent as you watch Tom’s side profile. The bruise of his eye is darkening and the cuts are bright red even in the dark light of the room. His hair is a mess, a little blood in the few curls that tend to fall onto his forehead. Tom’s arm is rested across his stomach, his hand holding his side. You can only imagine the pain he’s in and you just don’t understand how he could get himself into anything that would lead to this.

Tom turns his head and you look away quickly, feeling your cheeks turn red. Tom smiles to himself and shakes his head while his cheeks follow yours. He never minded when girls stared at him, hell, he liked it. It fueled his ego but with you staring, it made him feel a little self-conscious and maybe that was a little bit due to the wounds and his oily and messy hair but maybe it was more because he could never tell what you were thinking. And your opinion seemed to matter more than anyone else’s. Tom worried that you’d be coming up with a reason to leave and not come back. Something.

“I’m sorry.” Tom whispered as he looked back to the TV.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

What would normally be a condescending and expectant question, fell innocently from your lips as if you genuinely just wanted to know if he wanted to talk rather than know exactly what happened. Which, of course, you did want to know what happened and it’s been gnawing at your stomach for the past hour and a half, but you wanted to know if he wanted to talk about it. Because that’s what matters right now, not the actual event itself.

Tom shakes his head slowly, looking back to you, this time allowing you to see his face in full view. The inner of his other eye seemed to be tinting, telling you his nose really  _was_  likely broken.

“You don’t have to.” You say softly.

“I just,” Tom licks his lips. “It’s my fault.” Tom’s voice is raw and defeated.

“Harrison said it’s not.” You state, turning your body to face him, your leg being pulled up and under your other leg to make yourself more comfortable.

“‘Course he said that.” Tom scoffs. “It is my fault ‘cause I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.” Tom’s jaw clenches and your brows furrow, curiosity and nervousness starting to seep into your veins. “I never listen and we end up here.” Tom’s voice wavers before he pauses. “We end up in fucked situations and it’s my fault.” Tom’s eyes widen but his voice doesn’t rise like maybe it should. Like he should be yelling, yelling at himself, the universe, someone but no. Tom’s voice is cracked and strained. “They went after him and it’s my fault.” With that sentence, a tear slid down Tom’s cheek. “It’s my fault. It is…all of it.” Tom’s voice trailed off with final words.

Tom’s brows are furrowed together and his jaw is open and just barely moving, his eyes just watering and he hates that he’s losing himself in this moment. But, it’s so much that he just can’t anymore. He can’t not break and you’re so quiet that it’s safe and everything is just overflowing. Overflowing with guilt and anger and sadness, heartache, everything and Tom just can’t take the ache in his chest or the burning of his eyes and bones.

You move over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. He takes in a deep breath as his head buries into the crook of your neck and his weak arms wrap around you as tight as they can manage. Within seconds, Tom’s body was shaking and sobs left his mouth, muffled by the fabric of his shirt you had on. Your hands rubbed his back and lightly rubbed the back of his head. You looked at the ceiling, almost cursing the universe for the second time that night for putting you in this situation. For putting  _ **Tom**_  in this situation. How could the universe do this?

Had you been told a week ago, Tom would be sobbing into your shoulder while you held him, you’d had rolled your eyes and called them nuts. Not Tom. He’d never let himself break in front of people. He’s too egotistical and proud but damn is he proving you wrong. He’s proving you wrong when his arms grab the fabric on your back as hard as he can as if grasping the shirt will keep you there longer. Like you won’t up and leave and you’ll just listen.

“It’s okay.” You say softly and you feel Tom’s hands grip the back of your shirt tighter with another sob.

You feel this need to kiss his temple, the top of his head, or his forehead. Something to get him to calm down and let him know it’s really okay. Whatever happened, happened and you’re going to help him through whatever it is. You’re going to try and put him back together again. But it’s your turn to not know exactly what’s overstepping at this point so you keep one hand in his hair and the other on his back, whispering in his ear.

And Tom can hear your words just above the sobs and sniffles coming from him. His lungs burn and his chest feels like it’s collapsing but his hands are grasping onto for dear life because he feels like he’s falling. He feels like he’s falling and he’s going to hit cement at any second. And his eyes are closed with images of the fight playing back like a movie preview. And there’s a foot colliding with his face while Harrison yells. But then your voice rings in his ear again and you promise that everything is going to be okay.

Tom’s head finally starts to pick up and his grip loosens but doesn’t actually let go. He keeps his head bowed but when you unwrap your arms from his neck, you move your hands to his face, making him look at you with her thumb in the space between the cut on his lip and cheek.

“Better?” You ask.

Tom swallows and nods once, his cheeks the reddest you’ve ever seen and his eyes somehow look worse than they already did. The gold specks in his eyes seem just as broken as him now. They’re blending into the darkness of his eyes and it just makes your chest hurt. Your thumbs rub his cheeks a few times, trying to figure out what to say, if there was anything to say.

Tom waits for you to say something out of fear that if he did say something, it’d lead to another broken sob and he’d start crying all over again. He’s supposed to be strong and now he can’t find himself able to pull away from your touch and wipe the stray tears himself, declaring he was okay and put on a brave face again. He can’t seem to pull himself from being maybe a little vulnerable with your hands cupping his face and truth be told, he doesn’t want to pull away. But he doesn’t know what to say and this silence should be awkward, it should be awkward with you staring into his bloodshot eyes and him staring at your tired eyes. With his hands holding your shirt like he was afraid of letting go without verbally expressing it. Everything in this situation should be awkward but it’s just not. It’s vulnerable and painful and absolutely terrifying, just like jumping out of a plane, not knowing for sure that your parachute will deploy and save you from hitting the ground at one-hundred and twenty miles an hour.

There’s something in the broken expression of Tom’s eyes that makes you want to take care of him and put him back together. It’s tugging at your heart and you can’t quite figure out what to say. The only thing you find yourself doing is resting your forehead against his and you’re not even sure why other than hoping it’ll help comfort him and maybe you’ll be able to breathe because with him looking at you like that, you can’t get the air into your lungs.

But, you still can’t breathe because his breathing that’s still labored from sobbing is fanning your lips and his eyes are on yours and you have to hold your breath. His eyes are broken but soft and you want to do something because you’re just a little too close and your heart is beating a little too loud in your ears. And there’s something almost chanting for you to do something. But you don’t move.

And Tom’s head is throbbing from being hit and it’s throbbing from crying but the only thing he can really hear is the constant chant, the same one running through your head. Do something. Anything. As long as he can get you to stay that way, your forehead against his and your lips just hovering over his, but for the first time ever, Tom is hesitating because he doesn’t want you to move and if he does anything, it might scare you off. So his eyes dart between your lips and eyes before choosing to stay locked on your eyes.

“Um,” You try to break the silence and just barely pull away. “Do…you want to lie down?” You ask softly.

“Yeah.” Tom whispers but he doesn’t move and his grip doesn’t release your shirt.

“You, uh, you have to let go.” You say, keeping your voice quiet and your head still, not fully wanting him to let go or the distance to lengthen.

Tom’s hands release the back of your shirt and your hands fall from his face, both of you pulling back and taking in large breaths. You felt it and he felt it. It’s unspoken but it’s in the air. You’re both free-falling and it’s fucking terrifying. Tom moves to lay back on the couch while you stand for him to get comfortable.

“Why don’t I get you a pillow,” You say as you grab the grey blanket Tom had over the back of the couch. “And some water and maybe a bag of ice for your nose and you can tell me a little bit of what happened?”

“Okay.” Tom says, his voice now sounding more hoarse than anything else. “Thank you.” Tom mumbles as you send a weak smile before exiting the living room.

You make it quick and bring Tom a pillow before going to the kitchen and grabbing two bottles of water as well as a bag of ice and a towel to wrap it in. You stand at the side of Tom who just looks like a beat up puppy at this point while you hand him the water and the ice. He puts the bottle on the floor and slowly moves himself to sit back up but only half way, leaving plenty of room for you to sit down. You take your seat, pulling your knees to the side of you while you lean against the armrest, waiting for Tom to speak up.

“Are you going to leave when I tell you?” He asks and the question throws you off.

Why he is so convinced you’re going to leave? Why is he so worried about you leaving? You live next door. Hell, you work with him and it’s nearly five in the morning.

“I’m not going to leave, Tom, I promise and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” You take in a deep breath and choose not to ask why he’s so worried about you leaving, wanting to tackle one thing at a time.

Tom’s eyes look away from you as he sits all the way up again, as if he can’t seem to sit still with nerves trickily through his bloodstream. His groans fill the room with the nearly silent TV until he’s sat fully up. He runs a hand through his hair, terrified of scaring you off. You promised but that doesn’t ease his fear.

“They went after Harrison.” Tom says weakly.

“Who did?” You ask.

“These guys.” Tom says, eyes distant. “There were ten of ‘em and Harrison said we should leave ‘cause they, uh,” Tom shakes his head. “We had a problem ‘while back but I didn’t wanna leave, ya know? The didn’t fuckin’ like it when they noticed so…Harrison convinced me to leave and they followed us, wanted to make sure we got it. They were going for Harrison but,” Tom’s head hung. “Called ‘em twats and cowards for goin’ after ‘im. Didn’t take kindly to it and they came after me.”

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. “Why did they go after you guys at all? And why did you do that?”

Tom shook his head and he could feel the back of his eyes start to burn and a lump form in the back of his throat. “Because he’s my best mate and it’s my fault.” Tom ignores the first question leading you to know he doesn’t want to talk about it and you allow it to pass, hoping Tom will talk more about it later.

“Harrison said-”

“No, it is.” Tom says, his voice showing the ownership of his past mistakes. “It’s my fault they went after us tonight. They hate me. They go after Haz cause he’s there.” Tom mumbles, looking to the TV.

“Okay.” You say softly, not sure what else to say.

What can you say after someone tells you that? He gets the fuck beat out of him to help his friend and maybe it is his fault it happened but that doesn’t change Tom took the blows so Harrison wouldn’t have to. That, that in itself has to be terrifying. 

Tom’s face softens when he looks back to you, noticing the contentment but worry on your face. You’re worried but not scared and you don’t look like you’re going to press. You’re there to listen to him. You’re there to listen, something no one else ever wants to do because they need to know every single answer at once. You aren’t like everyone else. You can live with getting a few minor answers at a time. You can live with it because the minor answers are better than nothing and you want Tom to trust you.

“That’s it?” Tom asks hesitantly.

“I won’t push you to tell me more. You’re…hurt and if you’re telling me, there’s a reason. I’m here if you want to tell me but if not, it can wait.”

Tom lets out a large breath from his nose while the good side of his mouth tugs into a smile. “I really just want you to stay.”

“I won’t go until you tell me to.”

The look of complete and utter relief consumes Tom’s face. When people do bad things to other people, to people who truly care about them, they take these tiny pieces. They take pieces everyday because the person most invested is willing to give them away freely. They give them away because they don’t expect someone they care so deeply about to rush off and take those pieces forever, leaving them incomplete and broken.

It’s a bold choice to give pieces of yourself to someone else and trust them to not run away and Tom got to learn that first hand. He knew the risk he took because heartbreak is inevitable. If it’s not a breakup that happens, then it’s something worse, something tragic. But, he did it anyway and he assumed that if he gave someone pieces him, they’d take care of those pieces and give him pieces of them, too. Pieces to replace the ones he gave, like a trade. But they didn’t. So it left him beaten, broken, bruised, and alone. Incomplete and an utter disaster. But you have a bright smile and bright eyes and you’re giving him these tiny pieces that might not mean much to you because they’re so small, but to Tom, they’re putting him back together. They’re filling these little gaps the other person left and didn’t bother to replace. And your pieces don’t fit quite right, not yet. They don’t fit like a puzzle should but they’re holding him together like a steady beaver dam and that’s okay. That’s more than okay because that’s more effort than most anyone has tried since everything happened. But, then again, most people don’t have a heart like yours.

“Can you not tell Harrison about this?” Tom asks, changing subject.

“Tell Harrison about what?” You ask, smile on display.

Tom returns the smile and nods, hooded eyes and all. “Tired?”

“Extremely.” You chuckle.

“You can lay down and sleep if you want.” Tom says, moving his legs to the edge of the couch, making room for your legs to spread out beside his.

“I can sleep on the floor.” You shrug softly.

“Please, don’t.” Tom nearly whines.

“Tom.” You give him a displeased look but he just gives her puppy eyes with a pouty lip.

“I’m hurt.” Tom says, trying to gain sympathy.

“Fine,” You laugh. “But stop looking at me like that.”

“Why?” Tom drops the look and gains a triumphant smirk.

“Because it’s cute.” You murmur shyly.

“You think I’m cute even with a fucked up face.” Tom’s heart wants to beat out of his chest. You think he’s cute even with bruises and cuts and bloodshot eyes. You think he’s cute even after he sobbed into your shoulder.

“Your face was screwed up before.” You retort. Tom’s jaw drops making you burst out laughing. “I’m sorry but you left that open.” Tom sticks out his tongue and scrunches his face, turning his head, acting to be mad. “Awwww, poor Tommy.” You roll your eyes and Tom’s ears heat up with the nickname he usually hates but now he just wants you to say it again. “How long can you pretend to be mad at me after I cleaned you up?” Tom bites the inside of his cheek to try not to smile. “Did you know you smell good? I mean, your clothes and they’re comfortable.” You gain a shit-eating grin, playing into Tom’s ego.

“Not working.” Tom mumbles but the words nearly break his faked sour look.

“Fine.” You move towards him, moving in the small space between his thighs and the back of the couch. “You’re still cute even with your face all sorts of messed up.” Tom moves his stare to you as his heart picks up.

Your smile is so wide and beautiful and your eyes are exhausted, even a bit blood shot. You look like you’re either going to pass out right now or you’ll burst into a fit of laughter until you just completely crash. Your hair is a mess from getting a little damp from the snow and you running your hand through it. But his clothes are hanging from you a little looser than they do on him and it’s a sight he could get used to seeing. If you didn’t mind.

“What?” You ask, the mood slowly changing as you knock Tom out of his train of thought.

“You look really pretty.” Tom whispers as if he were in a state of awe.

There’s not a smile on his face but it’s soft and gentle, sincere. There are no ulterior motives in the compliment. He thinks you’re really pretty and that’s all. He’s not expecting you to actually lay down and sleep with him or even anything more. You just look really pretty and you need to be told.

Your cheeks shine bright as you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. “Thanks, Tom.”

He nods kindly and moves his attention to the TV. The fluttering in his chest is getting a little obnoxious but it makes him smile and you can’t help but smile either because Tom thinks you’re pretty even though you know you look like a mess. This boy is going to be death of you.

“Here.” You say, figuring you really don’t want to sleep on the floor and you don’t want Tom to feel any more guilt on top of what he already feels and maybe you’re not ready to move away from his warmth. “Move, scoot.” You say, swapping places with Tom and taking his pillow. You make yourself comfortable by pulling your legs up to the side so you can lean on the arm of the couch and you place the pillow on your lap. “You can sleep.”

“You sure?” Tom asks. “I mean,” He shakes his head quickly. “If you want, sure but if you don’t really want to, I can take the floor or you can have that end and I’ll take this.” Tom offers quickly.

“I don’t want your feet in my face if I’m being honest.” You giggle.

Tom chuckles, this time not hard enough to hurt himself. “Good point.” He says and moves himself to lay down on the pillow resting on your lap.

“Ice.” You say handing him the ice that’s still wrapped in a towel. “If you fall asleep, I’ll take it off your face in half an hour so you don’t hurt yourself more.”

“Thanks.” He says and puts the ice on the half on the bridge of his nose and half on the space between his eyebrows. “Comfortable?” He asks.

“Yep.” You give him a bashful smile before pulling your phone from the pocket of your pajama pants, setting an alarm on when to wake Tom up.

The room falls into a comfortable silence while your hand goes to Tom’s hair, absentmindedly playing with it while you watch reruns of How I Met Your Mother and Tom smiled with your touch. His heart kept skipping beats and sleep was calling his name. This is what safety felt like, even with a busted up face. And even with the cuts and bruises, this was the first night in a long time that Tom was able to fall asleep not feeling like he was damaged goods, damaged goods only being used for what he could dish out. For the first time in a year, he felt like he meant something to someone before going to sleep. And for the first time, he doesn’t feel so alone.


	12. innocence

Your alarm sounded scaring you awake. You gripped your chest while your heart jumped into your throat. You’d only fallen asleep forty-five minutes earlier, leaving you more than disoriented as your eyes scanned the living room. For only a split second, fear struck you as you weren’t waking up on your own couch. But, there was a pressure on your legs and strands of hair still between your fingers reminding you of the events a few hours earlier.

_Tom._

You let out a breath and took a few seconds to admire him sound asleep with his head pressed against the pillow on your legs. Even with the bruises and cuts, he looked peaceful, soft, even a little gentle like he just needed someone to be there with him, no expectations. Just comfort. You wanted to let him continue sleeping more than anything but you didn’t want to risk not waking him up with his apparent concession.

“Tom?” You whispered, running your hand through his disheveled hair.

Nothing.

“Tom, wake up.” You said a little louder, one of your hands lightly shaking him. A small groan came from Tom as he shook his head against the pillow. A soft, adoring smile tugged at your lips. “Wake up, Tommy.”

The nickname rang through Tom’s ears and he stirred awake, his head, face, and side throbbing. He peaked his eyes open and turned to lay on his back. Relief flooded his veins when his eyes connected with yours. He hoped it wasn’t a dream, you waking him up. And it wasn’t.

“Hey.” Tom’s voice is hoarse and a little too dry, his eyes falling closed again.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

“Tom?” He mumbles the question.

“What day is it?” You ask, your voice remaining soft and gentle.

“Wednesday, ya?”

“Just making sure.” You say. “You can go back to sleep.”

“You sleep.” The two words fall from Tom’s mouth in a slow sleep-drenched slur.

"I will.” The smile doesn’t fall from your face.

The truth was that you were ready for Tom to fall back asleep so you could get another two hours. Your head is spinning from lack of sleep, your stomach was turning, and your heart was racing. You feared for Tom and it was taking its toll. But, you would stay awake if that’s what you needed to do. Your wants and needs don’t matter right now. Not to you.

“Please, sleep.” Tom’s voice cracks with the plea, his eyes barely peaking open to look up at you.

“Okay.” You whisper and run your hand through his dark curls.

Tom groans as he sits up, the pain in his side a stabbing throb with every movement. You watch him with a quirked brow, waiting to see what he was doing. But, all he does is take his pillow and move to the other end of the couch, resting the pillow on the arm of the couch and laying on his good side. He extends an arm for you, his eyes already closed. You roll your eyes and shake your head. When you said okay, this isn’t what you meant or what you had in mind but, he looks a little too inviting.

“That’s a bad idea.” You remark.

Tom doesn’t say anything, he just leaves his arm extended for you, the edge of the couch calling your name. What’s the worst that can happen if you lay down with him? It could hurt him if you move wrong. But, if you’re being honest, that’s not really your concern because you’re wearing his clothes and you’re already addicted to the fabric softener that drenches his clothes. And You don’t know if you can afford to risk going on a bender. It’s a battle between your heart and head because deep down, you know that the afternoon will come and Tom will either try to play the game of winning a bet or he’ll push away. It’s what people like him do and you desperately don’t do either. So, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him, facing him.

Tom sighs in contentment, his arm draping over your side. You look to him, his eyes just barely looking at you and his mouth tugging into the most exhausted smirk you’d probably ever see in your entire life.

“One time thing.” You say, your head telling the truth but heart telling a lie.

“M’kay, darlin’.” Tom’s raspy voice falls on your ears and you hate how comfortable it feels.

Tom’s arm moves from your waist and pulls the blanket over the both of you. You move closer into Tom’s chest as his arm falls back around your waist. He’s so warm and soft and comfortable. He’s beaten and broken and bruised but you swear this is the safest place on the entire planet and time might as well stop because nothing could ever go wrong, not with his arm around you and you starting to drift to sleep.

Another two hours had passed and your phone started going off, waking you both up. You both groaned in response as you tried to wiggle Tom’s arm off of your waist and your arm so you could get your phone from your pocket. His arm felt like it weighed two tons but you eventually got your phone and shut the alarm off.

“You okay?” You ask, your eyes barely keeping open to look up at Tom.

“Mhm. Tom, Wednesday.” He mumbles the answers to the questions you’d asked previously.

“Okay.” You say softly and nuzzle back into Tom’s chest.

Tom opens his eyes and looks down at you. His heart flutters in his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. His arm pulls you closer, protecting you from falling off the edge of the couch and it’s new. It’s different. Girls sleep over with him all the time but not like this. Usually, the most clothing that’s on are underwear and he doesn’t cuddle with them. It’s a strict rule he made for himself. Don’t get too close. Sex is sex but this, sleeping with someone in the most innocent sense of the phrase, that’s intimate. So, it’s only right that while his chest is fluttering and he wants to go right back to sleep, his eyes are open and his hands are going clammy because this is a lot and he needs to get up.

“Y/n?” Tom whispers.

“Hm?” You hum against him.

“Gotta got to the toilet.” He says.

You nod and move enough for him to get up, groaning as his feet hit the floor.

“Can you make it?” You ask, rolling over to face him.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He sends you a nervous smile before limping out of the living room, leaving you to yourself.

Tom locked himself in the bathroom and looked himself in the mirror, wincing at the sight. He literally looked like he got his face kicked in. It hurt like hell and he hates it. He hates it because it makes him seem weak and he’s on about five hours of sleep and everything from the night before is settling in. He cried, sobbed, into your shoulder and he let himself be vulnerable. He let himself be something he swore he’d never be again but you were there and you’re so safe, how could he not?

Tom held his head as he weighed what to do before it hit him.  _Harrison_. He needs to check on his friend. Tom exits the bathroom and heads to the living room to retrieve his phone but when he reached the room, you had fallen back asleep. The nervous thumping of his heart turned back into a warm flutter with the sight. You promised you wouldn’t leave until he told you to and you’re sound asleep on his couch. In his clothes and god do they look perfect on you.

Tom sighs and pulls the grey blanket over you, making sure you were warm enough. Your head shook slightly but you didn’t stir awake. Tom knew what the feeling in his chest was and a year ago, he’d have said it’s all he ever wanted but now, he’s not sure he wants it or if he deserves it. Deserves it because of  _you_.

Tom retrieves his phone that’d fallen onto the floor and he grabs a zip-up that was hanging on the door before he made his way to the window that leads to the fire escape. He’s not such a huge fan of it but he didn’t want to talk to Harrison with you right there and he didn’t want to go into the hall. Truthfully, Tom didn’t want to stray too far from you and while the fire escape might have a thin layer of snow covering the metal and it might be freezing, it’s his best option.

The phone is pressed softly against Tom’s face as it rings a few times. Harrison should be awake, he’s supposed to be at work and Harrison never misses a call from Tom. And sure enough, a few rings later, Harrison’s groggy voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Why aren’t you at work?” Tom questions, knowing Harrison’s voice was far too sleep-filled to have been at work.

“Called off, why are you awake?” Harrison groans, pulling the phone from his face to check the time.

“Had to make sure you’re alright.” Tom says, his hand coming to rub the cut on his lip.

“I’m fine, it’s you that’s cause for concern.”

“Y/n stitched me up fine.”

“She there still?”

Tom looks over his shoulder, through the window where he can just barely see the top of your head on the pillow on the couch. “Yeah, sleeping.”

“Yeah?” Harrison smirks on the other line, sitting up in bed.

“Yeah, she, uh, woke me up a few times to check on me so I’m lettin’ her sleep a bit.” Tom answers.

Harrison chuckles. “How’re you handling that?”

“I called to check on ya, not to talk about this.” Tom dodges Harrison’s question.

“Yeah, but I said I’m fine and I’m getting up to come over anyway so you might as well start talking, mate.”

Tom rolls his eyes and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Alright,” He says. “I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Harrison asks, moving around his room for a pair of sweats. “Snowing still?”

“Nah, just a bit on the ground. I mean, I dunno.”

“That’s a load of shit.” Harrison complains.

“Not so bad, trucks were out last night-”

“I meant you not knowing but nice try.” Harrison quips, putting Tom on speaker to change his clothes.

“Freakin’ me out, Haz.” Tom’s hand grips the freezing metal, his knuckles turning white from the force.

“Yeah?” Harrison asks. “You really like her, then?”

“Don’t want to.” Tom says through gritted teeth.

“But you do.” Harrison affirms.

“I guess, yeah.” Tom’s voice is reluctant but he’s not lying.

“Okay,” Harrison moves to the kitchen. “What do you want to do then?”

“What do you think?” Tom retorts.

“Think you wanna go to a pub and get pissed, bring a girl home and fuck. But, given how I’m guessing your face looks, that’s not exactly an option for you and it’s barely after nine.” Harrison sighs as he grabs his coat. “And I know you well enough to know you won’t start being a prick just to get her to leave you alone because you’ve got that bet.”

“I hate you.” Tom mumbles, his grip releasing the metal.

“You hate me because I’m right. So, what do you plan to do?”

“What do you suggest should I do?” Tom asks.

“You’re going to do what you want so what I say won’t matter.” Harrison rolls his eyes.

“I dunno what to do. What if she’s…” Tom pauses and turns to lean against the metal bars. “What if she, ya know?”

Harrison doesn’t respond at first, knowing Tom’s fear. Tom doesn’t want Harrison knowing he cried and opened up to you a little bit because he knows Harrison will just keep bringing it up. It won’t be something that happened in the moment, it’ll suddenly change whatever that bated breath moment was and Tom hates the idea of losing it. But, admitting that he likes you and that he’s afraid you’ll be like the others, that’s something only Harrison gets to hear. Harrison gets to hear it because Harrison picks Tom up when no one is willing to and Harrison is Tom’s voice of reason. They’re like brothers.

“Okay,” Harrison leans against his door. “Do you really think she is?”

“Not like I’ve got good taste.” Tom challenges.

“True,” Harrison chuckles. “I know it’s a foreign concept for you but maybe sit down and have an adult conversation with her.”

Harrison is rooting for Tom and you. He won’t actually tell Tom or you that but he is. Tom doesn’t look at you the way he looked at any other girl. He acts differently around you and you just make him better, make him care again. Harrison just wants his friend to be happy and you make him happy. You make him really fucking happy and Harrison can’t hold Tom’s hand through this and tell him exactly what to do, but he can try to guide Tom.

“Look, I’m heading over and I’m stopping to get coffee, text me what you want and whatever y/n gets. We can talk about it later, ya? Maybe when you’re not sleep deprived.” Harrison chuckles at the last bit of his sentence.

“Yeah,” Tom says quietly.

“And Tom,” Harrison stops the locking of his door as his smile falls. “Thanks for last night.”

Tom’s not the only one with guilt trickling through his veins.

“Yeah, of course.” Tom nods as he moves towards the window, opening it slowly. “Uh, didn’t tell her much so just, don’t mention it, ya?” Tom asks and his voice is shallow as he reenters his heated apartment.

“Not a word.” Harrison says before hanging up, leaving Tom with his thoughts and a sleeping you.

Tom texts his coffee order to Harrison, the usual as well as yours, knowing yours better than his at this point. He walks the rest of the way into the living room with the intention of waking you up, knowing Harrison would be there within twenty minutes but he can’t quite bring himself to do it.

You looked like an utter disaster, not nearly as bad as him, but a disaster nonetheless. But, you looked perfect. Just perfect, curled up with a hand under your head and your hair spread out and tangled. There’s a warmth spreading through Tom’s chest at the sight and he’d kill to be able to just lay beside you and sleep again without the worry of overstepping or the worry of what might happen. And when he catches himself thinking how he just wants to make sure you’re warmth enough and comfortable, the butterflies are slowing swarming and the ache through his body being able to be ignored just by the thought. Another small pang of anxiety hit him. He’s not supposed to feel this way and it’s scary but he can feel his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling softly and he’s in way too deep.

Harrison’s right, it’s not like he had can run. He’s stuck. He’s stuck having to deal with his feelings or losing a bet, something he never does. He can’t go sleeping around with his face beaten in or the likely broken rib he has. Tom’s too big of a mess to go out and even if the bet wasn’t on the line, even if he didn’t always feel the need to prove people wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to push you away. All Tom can do is jump from the plane and hope to hell you catch him.

So, Tom takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch. He leans his back against the cushions and brings out his phone, changing the TV back to How I Met Your Mother. If he got back on that couch, he’d fall back asleep but he’d also be sleeping with you again and if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this right. No playing with your feelings, no lying, just slow and soft.

“Tom?” You groan, the faint sound of TV waking you up and knocking Tom out of his thoughts.

He turns his head to face you. “Shit, sorry.” He says quickly and turns the volume down. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“No, it’s okay.” You say sweetly. “Why are you on the floor?”

Tom’s cheeks turn red as he looks to the TV. “Didn’t want to wake you or anything.” He answers simply.

“You don’t have to sit on the floor. I’ll get up.” You go to get up but Tom turns back around, softly shaking his head.

“Haz is bringing coffee so you can sleep the few more minutes.”

“Coffee?” You ask, a quirked brow on display.

Tom nods. “Yeah, called ‘im so he’s coming over and he’s bringing coffee and probably food knowin’ him.” A smile crosses Tom’s face.

“I can leave you guys to your own.” You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“No,” Tom says. “You can stay.” He turns back to the TV and you look at the messy curls with confusion but a bit of happiness seeps through you.

“Do…do you want me to?” You ask, biting your lip.

Your breath caught in your throat with the question. You were so sure that what happened just a few hours prior was only due to Tom coming down from the adrenaline and the concussion he sustained and the exhaustion, basically everything. There really wasn’t that moment where you swore you were both thinking the same thing but you both felt the same fear and couldn’t do anything about it. And now Tom had a few more hours of sleep and he was thinking a little clearer, wanting to act as if the night didn’t really happen. It was all due to disorientation. You were so sure and you dreaded hearing it.

Tom looks at you and he sees the softness in your eyes and he never wants you to leave even though you live right next door. He wants you to stay with him and keep him sane and keep him on track.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” He nods and there’s an innocent smile on his face. You mimic the smile and push a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Okay, um, I’m gonna call my dad real quick then and just tell him I’m gonna take a sick day.”

“Alright.” Tom nods as you move around him, careful not to nudge him but before you could leave, he catches your wrists. You raise your brows with curiosity and his hand falls gently onto his lap. “Just,” Tom takes in a deep breath. “Thanks.”

You smile wide. “You’re welcome.” You start to walk out before stopping once more. “Hey, Tom?”

Tom stands up slowly, moving to the couch and looking to you. “Yeah?”

“Do you have a hoodie? Mine kind of has your blood on it.” You giggle softly.

You could walk next door and grab a hoodie but you don’t want to leave just as much as Tom doesn’t want you to. You’d rather just see if you could borrow a hoodie of his, wrap yourself in his warmth through clothing. By the look on Tom’s face, your heart lifts up because he just gives you a soft smile and nods. He doesn’t mind.

“Ring your dad and I’ll get ya one.”

“Thanks.” You blush, moving to the table.

Your dad picks up immediately, concern drenched in his voice as he asks where you are. You were supposed to be in an hour ago. You calmly explain you’d overslept and you weren’t feeling well, which was the second time you lied on account of Tom. He told you he was going to come by later and bring you soup but you quickly declined and promised you’d be okay. You were going to sleep the rest of the day. When your dad didn’t protest as much, you knew he was onto your lying, but you didn’t quite get why he didn’t call your bluff. What you did know was that you’d be paying for it later with a lecture a third degree.

“Alright?” Tom asks and hands you a dark blue hoodie.

“Yeah, he just worries.” You chuckle, tossing the hoodie over your head.

“That’s good though.” Tom says.

You scoff. “Sometimes he worries too much, ya know?”

“Why?” Tom pulls out a chair, not too close and too far away.

“Long story.” You roll your eyes, deciding now wasn’t the time to go into a long boring story of your life. “How are you feeling? Your eyes are black and blue.”

“Yeah,” Tom huffs. “If my nose isn’t broken, it sure as hell feels like it.”

“Besides that, do you feel okay?”

The question falls onto Tom and he decides to take the smallest risk. “I’ll be honest, you’re kind of the only thing that’s making me feel okay.”

“Are you flirting?” You laugh but your cheeks are warm and your heart is fluttering.

Tom smirks but the honesty is still in the air.”Yeah, a little.” He licks his lips and looks to the table before looking back to you.

Before you can say anything, there’s a sound of a key jiggling the lock and seconds later, Harrison walks in carrying a box of donuts, balancing three coffees on top. You and Tom get up to help so he doesn’t spill the warm drinks everywhere. Harrison puts the box of assorted donuts on the table as the three of you take your seats. Your brows furrow as you get a look at Harrison face in the light.

Tom said they had gone after Harrison first but you didn’t think they had actually hurt him and you didn’t notice any bruises or cuts before. Your attention was focused on Tom but you should have noticed. There’s a faint blue bruise coloring Harrison’s cheek. And just as you were going to say something, Harrison started shrugging off his coat, his face contorting in a touch of a pain. But that’s not what grabs your full attention. There are bruises. Eight total bruises, four on each of his biceps as if he were being held back.

Tom notices the bruises when he catches you staring. Tom shakes his head and feels his stomach turn. He knew why Harrison had winced. He knew why he had those bruises as if it weren’t obvious enough. Tom felt more guilt come over him and it made him want to start screaming. He’s supposed to protect his best friend and even when he tries, his friend still sustains some type of injury and then he looks at you. You’re soft and fragile like expensive china. If he can’t protect his friend and it’s eating at his stomach, how he is supposed to protect you? How the hell is he supposed to protect you from him?

* * *


	13. who needs rules

Blue and purple bruises in the shapes of fingers. Tom’s heart ached as much as his face and his hands balled into fists. Harrison is okay. He is but it’s the fact that he has to have the marks of someone else on him on account of Tom that’s going to eat at the pit of Tom’s stomach. There might be a faint bruise decorating Harrison’s pale skin but it’s the fingerprints. The fingerprints are what hurt because Tom knows how hard the men had to try to hold Harrison back in order to leave those marks.

Harrison doesn’t deserve any pain and he doesn’t deserve the guilt of not being able to help his friend. He doesn’t deserve what he witnessed. Had Tom listened the hundred times Harrison tried to be a voice of reason, it wouldn’t have happened. None of it would have. 

Harrison felt you and Tom staring as he reached to open the white and pink box of donuts. He glanced to his arms and rolled his shoulders, looking away from the two of you. The bruises were showing when he’d gone to shower before going to bed but by the time he woke up, he wasn’t too concerned about what his arms would look like. His shoulders ached and his throat is a bit sore but he mostly just wanted to make sure Tom wasn’t bullshitting and Tom was the one who was okay. A few fingerprint bruises weren’t going to get the best of him

He grabbed a jelly-filled donut and leaned back in his seat. “What?” He asked before taking a bite.

“Be back. Need a minute.” Tom mumbles before his chair squeaks across the tile while he gets up and heads down the hall, a door slamming a shut a few seconds later.

You watch the hallway for a few seconds before looking back to Harrison. You were going to ask if you should be worried and if Harrison was okay while also wanting to ask for the exact details, but, Harrison beat you to the quiet air.

“You’re still here.” Harrison says and a soft grin dances onto his face.

The statement catches you off guard because of course he knew you were there. Tom told him so it shouldn’t need to be stated. And a statement like that is usually stated when someone has overstayed their welcome but the look on Harrison’s face and the tone of his voice is telling you the exact opposite.

“Yeah,” You say, your hands fiddling with the warm coffee sleeve.

“He ask you to stay?” Harrison asks.

“Kind of…yeah.” Your cheeks turn a little red, not sure if you’re supposed to tell Harrison anything and if you should be talking about you staying when Tom’s down the hall, a little too quiet for your own comfort. “Should I go check on him?”

“Kind of?” Harrison’s brows furrow with the question before he shakes his head and the curious grin falls. “Nah,” He finishes his donut. “Tom’s not violent, really.” Harrison’s face scrunches for a few seconds. “But he’s got his moments where he can get mean. He needs to cool off and it’s best to leave him be.”

“Uh,” You chew on your bottom lip, fingers still playing with the sleeve on your cup. “I don’t know how much I’m supposed to tell you.” You whisper through an awkward chuckle. “Are you sure though? I just,” You take in a deep breath. “I don’t know. I worry, I guess.”

Harrison laughs and goes for another donut before pushing the box toward you. “He’ll tell me anyway. Tells me everything unless he makes a promise not to. But, yeah, I’m sure. If we hear something hit the floor, you can check on him.”

Harrison is so confident that Tom is okay and you can’t help but find it both a little intimidating and comforting. At least with Harrison here, you don’t feel like you have to watch Tom like a hawk because Harrison knows him better than anyone. You don’t mind looking after Tom, you’d even like it if it were under different circumstances, but it’s nice to have someone else there who knows him better.

“I don’t remember what I said.” You start honestly as you look over the fresh donuts and pluck the one with chocolate frosting. “But, I remember he said he really just wants me to stay and when I said I could leave you two alone, he said I could stay so when I asked if he wanted me to, he said he did.” You take a small bite from your donut and Harrison sends you the softest approving smile you’d ever seen. “He won’t tell me much of what happened…can you? I won’t say anything. I just,” You sigh and the soft expression you had changed to one of uncertainty and heartache. “I don’t know, ya know?”

Harrison sits for a second knowing what Tom told him. Tom doesn’t want you to know and for good reason. It’s a mess and it’ll bring up a long past Tom doesn’t want to have to explain. It’s a sore spot for him and he shouldn’t have to disclose his past with anyone. But the tone of your voice shows your genuine concern for Tom and all you want to do is help. Harrison hates betraying his friend but maybe you should know that way you know what you’re getting into.

“Alright,” Harrison sighs and takes a drink of his coffee. “What’re your intentions? You here to win this bet or? Because I don’t know every detail but this has to be against the bet.” Harrison’s voice is cold and his face is serious as his eyes scan over you in Tom’s hoodie with messy hair.

“You asked me last night as his friend to not give up on him.” You state, no hesitation in your voice. Harrison nods, waiting to see where you were going with your statement. “I was going to stay and give him a second chance anyway.”

Harrison’s eyes widen and his head jerks back with surprise. “Why?”

“Don’t tell him this but I believe everyone deserves a second chance. People screw up, it’s what they do but if they’re sorry, like really sorry, they won’t do it again. So, I give people second chances even if they don’t deserve them. You asking me to not give up him,” You pause for a few beats. “Makes me have more faith in him.”

Harrison shakes his head as he looks down, his eyes catching a glimpse of the blue and purple on his biceps. “Go. Go check on him and if he yells at you, don’t take it personally. But if he lets you in, he’ll probably have me tell you. I won’t tell you anything if he doesn’t want me to. I won’t do that to him.”

You nod. “You’re a good friend.”

“Yeah,” Harrison says, licking his lips while you gets up and start to make your way to Tom’s bedroom.

You knock and Tom doesn’t say a word. “Tom?” You ask as you knock again.

You hear feet pad around the room before the door handle squeaks. Tom opens the door, his cheeks red and his hair a complete disaster like he’d been running his hands through it since he left the table.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Just need a minute.” Tom mumbles, avoiding your eyes as he leans against the door frame, his hand holding the door ajar.

A smile plays at your lips. “It’s been a minute.”

Tom shakes his head at the innocent smile and your wide eyes. You look at him with so much interest and trust, hope. He is mad at himself and he feels so fucking guilty but that smile, that damn smile and your bright eyes, it makes him feel just a little better.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Tom says and can’t suppress the small smile on his face.

“Why?” Your brows furrow but the smile doesn’t budge.

“Because.” Tom says, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Want the rest of my donut? Promise you won’t die from eating it.” You giggle as you hold up the food.

Tom looks at the half-eaten donut and he just chuckles, his hand falling from the door. “I can get my own donut, dork.”

“Okay.” You say softly and extend your free hand for him to take.

Tom looks at your small hand and back to you before taking it in his. Your hand is freezing just as it was last night but he doesn’t mind. Instead, all he wants to know is how someone can just smile at him and it feels like the weight of everything he’s carrying isn’t so heavy anymore. The guilt isn’t going to simply go away but with his hand in yours as you lead him back to the kitchen, he thinks it might be okay soon. Tolerable and okay.

Harrison looks up from his phone when he hears your footsteps coming back into the kitchen. He shakes his head but there’s a smile tugging at his lips because it usually takes an hour for Tom to calm down. But all you had to do was offer him part of your donut and give him a smile.

“I’m okay, ya know?” Harrison says when Tom sits back down, his hand releasing yours while he grabs a donut.

“I know.” Tom says. “Just needed a minute.”

“Yeah,” Harrison says. “Okay,” Harrison takes in a nervous breath. “We owe her an explanation, mate.”

Tom looks to you whose eyes have grown sad and then he looks back to Harrison. He wants to fight Harrison on it but truthfully, he’s exhausted from fighting. It’s tiring running away from his problems and you’ve stuck around all night. You went to get him when Harrison was more than capable. You’re not going anywhere.

“Alright.” Tom nods.

You pull your coffee into your hands to keep them warm as Harrison is first to take in a deep breath and start the story of the night before.

* * *

_Cheering banged through the local bar as the Rangers won against the Penguins. Tom finished off his third and final beer of the night while Harrison was looking over his shoulder. The ten men and woman that had come in had noticed them and had been watching them, waiting. But it’d been twenty minutes since Harrison last saw them. It seems they left, besides the woman._

_“Tom, c’mon we should go.” Harrison urges and jerks his head toward the exit. “Been twenty minutes, they’re probably gone.”_

_“Or they’re outside.” Tom suggests._

_Harrison nods, knowing Tom might be right. “We can’t camp out here all night, mate.”_

_Tom looks to Harrison, sympathetic eyes. “Alright, yeah, okay.” Tom says and pays for their drinks._

_The men had watched Tom and Harrison on and off for two hours until they finally left but they didn’t take the woman with them. That was Tom’s concern. He knew them and he knew the boyfriend wouldn’t just leave her. There was a gut feeling that they were going to be outside those doors waiting for them. But, Harrison was right, they couldn’t just camp out. It was nearly three in the morning and he knew Harrison had to work. Had it not been for these men, Tom and Harrison would have left earlier. And if it were just Tom, he would have just faced them himself and gotten it over with but Harrison is there. They’ll bring Harrison into something he has nothing to do with._

_Tom and Harrison exit the building, being met with freezing cold air and small snow flurries. It’s dark besides a few dull lights that line the top of the bar. They walk along the wall, Harrison pulling out his phone to call for a cab which they should have done before even exiting the building because before Harrison could press the call button, a voice was pulling their attention._

_“Holland.”_

_Tom and Harrison stop and Tom’s jaw clenches as he rolls his eyes, turning to the side to see the group of men._

_“Garner.” Tom says, the two making eye contact._

_Garner gains a smirk. “Been awhile.” He starts to close the distance between them._

_“Yeah.” Tom says, his heart starting to pump in his ears, while his hands ball into fists at his sides._

_Garner, an old boxing friend of Tom’s. Tom’s beaten him in the ring a thousand times but this is outside of a bar just before three in the morning and Tom has Harrison who is strong and can fight but two against ten isn’t exactly a fair fight. And that was the problem with Garner. He doesn’t play fair._

_“Have some unfinished business.”_

_“Do we?” Tom quips._

_Harrison shakes his head at Tom’s response. “We’re just trying to get home. Your girlfriend accomplished her goal and Tom got what he needed. It’s even.” Harrison tries to reason while eight of the men start to walk forward as if circling Tom and Harrison like prey._

_Garner squints an eye and shakes his head. “Not how it works.”_

_With Garner’s words, the eight friends grabbed Harrison while Garner and one of his friends held Tom. Tom yanked his arms and yelled as Harrison was punched in the face._

_“C’mon, you’re gonna go after someone who didn’t have a bloody thing to do with it. Bunch of cowards and twats!” Tom spits, his best attempt at getting them to leave Harrison alone and come after him instead._

_Tom knew these guys and the best way to get under their skin was to talk shit. If he couldn’t physically do anything, he could run his mouth and he’s damn good at it. It’s gotten him in a few other fights before and he was sure it’d work here, too. But, the problem was that Tom never went eight against one so when Garner released Tom and took a right hook to the side of Tom’s face, Tom knew he was fucked._

_Garner called his other friends over and demanded two hold Harrison back until he was done. Garner kicked Tom in the side, Tom letting out a yell in response while one of Garner’s friends grabs the hood of Tom’s hoodie and brings him to his knees._

_“No one fucks with my girlfriend and gets away with it.” Garner says through gritted teeth, a closed fist connecting with Tom’s nose while the friend keeps tom on his knees. “Been running for a year, Holland. You had to know we’d run into each other eventually.”_

_“Leave him alone! We get it, alright?” Harrison tries to pull away from the two friends but to no avail. Harrison is strong but two college hockey players have him beat._

_“Shut the fuck up, Haz.” Tom says before spitting blood to the ground. Tom scoffs and looks Garner in the eyes, ready to push him over the edge so Garner can just finish the job. “Girlfriend’s a bloody cunt anyway.”_

_That was the tipping point. Garner took another punch and encouraged the eight other friends to jump in. Punches were thrown and Tom was kicked and stepped on. One blow left Tom feeling something running down his face while another left him feeling like the air had been sucked right out of his lungs. Harrison was screaming, begging them to leave Tom alone while he struggled against the other men, his shoulders rolling as he jerked but the men’s grip stayed tight. And in the middle of Harrison’s screaming, a ringing came into Tom’s ears as horrendous pain struck the back of his head. Everything sounded like it was an echo and his head was spinning, blood now dripping down his face while Garner kicked his ribs in. Everything hurt and all he could do was lay on the cold blacktop as small snow flurries fell from the sky._

_“ **Now** , we’re even.” Garner spits on Tom as he finishes with a final kick, calling off his friends surrounding Tom. He walks to Harrison and pats his face. “Nice seeing you again, Harrison.” Garners jerks his head and the friends finally release Harrison._

_As they walk off, back into the building, Harrison rushes to Tom, kneeling on the ground and resting a hand on Tom’s shoulder. There’s blood coming from his mouth, head, nose. It’s everywhere and Harrison has seen Tom in fights before but this wasn’t even a fight. Tom never stood a chance._

_“Tom? Can you sit up, mate?” Harrison’s words are rushed as he doesn’t care how scared he sounds._

_Tom groans and a soft whimper escapes his lips, his shoulders lightly shaking. Harrison has seen Tom cry a fair amount of times in the years they’ve been friends but never after a fight even if he was injured. Tom’s broken his arm, leg, nose, a few fingers, gotten the hell beat of him before and he’s never even teared up. But, it was clear that Garner and his friends really hurt him and that’s on top of the already repressed feelings Tom shoved down seeing Garner’s girlfriend._

_“C’mon, we gotta get you up.” Harrison moves to grab both of Tom’s shoulders and helps him lean against the brick wall._

_Tom looks to Harrison for the first time, the oozing blood changing directions. “Ow.”_

_Harrison shakes his head. “We gotta get you out of here, ya?”_

_“Y/n.” Tom mumbles, spitting blood to the side of him._

_“What?”_

_“Need you to ring her for me.” Tom brings a shaky hand up to his nose and winces with the softest touch._

_“You sure?” Harrison’s eyes are wide, not sure why Tom wants you of all people._

_“Please, Haz.” Tom pleads and Harrison doesn’t argue. Harrison pulls Tom’s phone from Tom’s hoodie pocket, surprised it managed to even stay in the pocket and intact, before calling you._

* * *

Your heart aches as Tom finishes the story. He avoids eye contact as shame floods his veins. But, you just get up from your seat and walk the few inches to Tom, wrapping your around his neck. It catches him off guard at first. He expected you to be angry, disappointed, scared even but you’re hugging him and everything seems like it’s going to be okay again. His arms come up and wrap firmly around you, his forehead resting against your abdomen while you run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper and look to Harrison.

Harrison gives you a soft nod and goes back to drinking his coffee. Tom takes a deep breath, his arms relaxing around you, wanting to stay there for as long as possible. All he really needs is comfort.

“Are you okay, Tom?” You ask as he pulls away and you brush the loose curls from his face.

Tom’s eyes move back and forth as he looks up at you. “Yeah.” He says softly.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I have to ask, what happened with the girlfriend that started this?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Tom says and his jaw doesn’t clench which makes Harrison hold the cup to his mouth in shock.

Any mention of that woman usually gets Tom’s blood all sorts of fired up, especially if someone asks but his eyes are locked with yours as if you really are the only thing making him feel okay and he’s not angry. Just honest.

“Okay.” You say and tug the corner of your mouth into a smile. “Eat.” You say as you pull away fully and take your seat, pulling the box of donuts to him.

Tom looks to Harrison and the two exchange smirks, Harrison rolling his eyes while Tom gets a donut.

“You look terrible.” Harrison laughs as he watches Tom, his attempt at lightening the mood.

“Fuck off.” Tom mumbles with his mouth full.

“Gross.” You wince.

“You’re gross.” Tom quips, his voice drenched in sarcasm.

“I will poke,” You look Tom over before you start laughing. “Well, I guess I can poke you anywhere and it would hurt.”

“Poke me? Tha’s your solution?” Tom barely gets out the words from laughing, Harrison joining him.

“I mean,” You squint your eyes and shrug. “Yes. If I poked your nose, it would hurt, would it not?”

“Fuck you.” Tom groans, leaning back in his chair, smile bright and wide.

“I like you.” Harrison says, looking to you. Your cheeks turn red as you look down to your coffee. While you’re not looking, Tom glances to Harrison and Harrison gives him a nod, a silent approval that you’re one of the good ones and not to fuck it up. “So, now that that’s cleared up, what do you two want to do?”

“Sleep.” Tom jokes, his head still leaned back on the chair.

“I second that.” You agree.

“Did I come over here to feed you two just for you to go back to bed?” Harrison asks.

“No one says you can’t go to sleep.” Tom chuckles, ignoring the pain of his side.

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea to do much by the looks of him anyway.” You state, jerking your head in Tom’s direction.

“Good point.”

“I’m fine!” Tom defends.

You and Harrison look at each and back to Tom at the same time before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Dude, your face is fucked.” Tom’s eyes narrow at Harrison. “We’ve not caught up on Nine-Nine yet, still got a few seasons left.”

A smirk forms on Tom’s face. “Care to watch some Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the day?” Tom looks to you.

“Not like I have anything else to do.” You agree quickly, happy to just spend your day with Tom and Harrison watching TV rather than even trying to do something. You’re about as exhausted as Tom at this point.

The three of you make your way into the living room where you take the seat you had while you slept and Harrison chooses his own seat on the smaller couch to the side. He grabs the blue throw blanket from the back of the couch and makes himself comfortable. You can’t help but laugh to yourself. For someone who made fun of you and Tom for wanting to sleep, he seems pretty okay with the idea now. Tom took his chances and sits right beside you rather than give you space and take the opposite end of the couch.

His knee brushes against yours and it felt warm and comfortable.  _He’s_  warm and comfortable. Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance to him and there’d a smile you’re trying to bite back but his big brown eyes keep the smile forming. And his eyes are soft as they look at you in your messy sleep state.

“Okay?” Tom asks, the timid smile tugging at his lips, just making sure it was okay if he sat beside you.

You nod and bite your lip. “Yeah, you’re okay.”

Tom lets out a sigh and pulls his blanket over the two of you, making sure you’re both warm and comfortable.

It’s like he’s never done this before but you know he has. He’s been around so many girls, you lost count but there’s anxiety in his eyes and nerves decorating his voice. You shouldn’t make him nervous but you do and he doesn’t know what to do. Even putting the bet aside, he doesn’t really know what to do. Is it okay for him to even try anything at all? Or is it strictly flirting that can be brushed off as friendly banter? It could be the way his skin breaks out in goosebumps when you touch or the literal fear of getting fucked over again that’s got him nervous. Or it could easily be him worrying that he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you but, more than likely, it’s a mixture of everything and him not being sure where you stand.

“I get that you two are cute and all,” Harrison starts as he sits up to adjust and look at Tom and you, both of your cheeks glowing red. “But can you at least turn on the show so I can watch something while you guys watch each other.”

“Jealous, Haz?” Tom quips, gaining a nudge from you.

“Actually,” Harrison smirks. “I got a number from the barista at the coffee shop.”

“Didn’t you just have a date?” You quirk a brow, the boys remembering the white lie Harrison told to make sure Tom would have an opening.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling it.” Harrison says, his cheeks starting to tint.

“Well, are you gonna call this girl?” Tom asks.

“Maybe.”

“You should do it.” You encourage.

Both boys look to you with confusion in their eyes. “Yeah?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah, if a girl takes the time to write her number on your order, she really does want you to call her. So, don’t let her down and if you don’t call, good luck going to that coffee shop again. It’ll be awkward if she’s working.”

Harrison and Tom look to each other as if you had just said the most genius thing either of them had ever heard.

“Didn’t think about that.” Harrison says.

“Call her then, mate. Or just text her.” Tom urges. “Cute, right?”

Harrison grins and pulls his phone out. “Mhm.” He hums.

“That means he was drooling over her.” Tom whispers in your ear.

“Fuck off, Tom.” Harrison groans as his fingers glide across the screen. “Won’t seem too eager?”

“You’ve been here an hour, so no. And that stuff is all crap anyway. There’s no three-day rule.” You roll your eyes and watch as Harrison send a text, quickly shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Might have to help him, he doesn’t have much luck with girls.” Tom chuckles and lightly nudges your shoulder.

“Me?” Harrison’s eyes widen. “You’re not much better!”

“I didn’t say I had good luck.” Tom retorts, his infamous arrogant smirk on display.

Harrison was going to say something when his attention was brought to his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and saw a text message from the girl from the coffee shop. His face lit up as he unlocked his phone and Tom’s smirk softened when he looked to you. And in this moment, the rules of the bet don’t matter. It’s just the three of you and you’re joking around and the three of you look like disasters but none of you care. You feel like you’ve known them your entire life and as if you could literally put your life in their hands and they’d never let it go.

Who needs rules anyway?

You move your hand to Tom’s and interlock your fingers with his. Tom stiffens for a second, surprised you’re making some form of a move but he relaxes and turns on the show, his thumb brushing over the top of your hand.

By the time the second episode was playing, you were leaning your head on Tom’s shoulder and Tom couldn’t help but look down and smile at you before returning to the show, his head leaning against yours.

While here, with his best friend texting away aimlessly and you comfortable on his shoulder, your hand in his, Tom questions why he ever gave up on this in the first place. Sure, heartbreak sucks and he’s terrified. He’s always going to be terrified of it happening again, but these are small moments that he forgot about. The ones with someone he really cares about that make him want to toss every ounce of fear out the window because having his heart broken by you, it’d be worth it.

“Okay, that’s it. You’re never allowed to leave. You’re stuck with us.” Harrison says as he readjusts again, looking back to you and Tom, trying not to give Tom any looks at how comfortable you both look.

“What?” You giggle, lifting your head but not actually moving away from Tom.

“She said she was afraid I wasn’t going to call her or anything and she wanted to know if I was okay. Long story short, I need to get more coffee in a few hours.” a gleeful smile crosses Harrison’s face.

“Good for you, mate.” Tom says, sincerity in his voice instead of sarcasm.

“Do I look okay? Or should I like…go home and change when I go?”

“She already saw you, Harrison.” You laugh.

“Right.” Harrison says shaking his head.

“Must be some girl.” Tom quips, his brow quirked since he’s never seen Harrison like this over a girl before.

“Dude,” Harrison says, eyes wide. “Wow.”

“Better not reduce her to looks. Tom’s been taking me boxing, ya know?” You threaten.

“She’s real scary, man. Better watch yourself.” Tom jokes, earning him a nudge from you.

“I feel tough now.” You hold your head up high with the statement.

“You don’t look like you could hurt a fly, darlin’.” Tom shakes his head, looking back to you with joking smile.

“I don’t like killing bugs.” You nod in agreement, the boys laughing in response.

“What time do you have to go?” Tom asks, looking back to Harrison.

“Uh, she said to be there around two so not for a bit.”

“Can use my shower if you want, got clothes here anyway.”

“I owe you.” Harrison gets up and makes his way over to Tom and you. “I owe you, too for convincing me just text her.” Harrison smiles down at you.

“Don’t mess it up and you’re all set.” You give him a grin before he chuckles and walks off.

Tom’s staring at you and for most people, it’s the approval of their parents they seek when they introduce someone new. But, for Tom, it’s Harrison. Of course, he cares about what his family would think of you, but Harrison is here and he’s always here. Harrison approving you when Harrison has never approved of any girl Tom has shown interest in, is a huge deal and it’s just making Tom fall harder. It’s making it harder for him to see if you’ll make a move and harder for him to choke down his nerves, and peel his eyes away from you.

“What?” You ask, your eyes back on Tom.

“You look really pretty.” Tom says softly, his breath just barely gracing your face.

Just as the night before, your cheeks shined red and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thanks, Tom.”

With his heart racing in his chest, Tom unlaced your fingers and pulled his arm from under the blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders. He doesn’t immediately pull you into his good side, waiting to see if you’d want to back away or move but when you doesn’t, you just smile, he pulls you into his side. Your head falls onto his shoulder and you wrap an arm around his waist, being mindful not to put pressure on his side.

Who needs rules anyway?


	14. winter in july

The rest of the day and night had gone by smoothly and without a hitch. You and Tom spent the time watching movies and TV, joking around and just enjoying each other’s company. Part of you did find yourself a little worried about what would happen when you left and the next day would come. Tom’s being sweet now and he seems to have a genuine interest in you but after a night alone will that wear off? But, that thought always fades away when he smiles at you because he can’t just look at you like that and then want nothing to do with you, no matter how hard he tries.

As for Tom, he knows he’d be waking up the next morning and he’d regret letting you in but he pushed it away because he knows that he’d see you the next day and your bright smile and innocent eyes would flood the regret away. Sure, he’s going to be fucking scared out of his mind and every second he’s not with you, he’ll want to run and find a way to get rid of the goosebumps that form when he thinks about your touch. But, he won’t. His fear of getting hurt doesn’t top the fear of hurting you.

So, when the next day came around, it was no surprise Tom was a little warier around you but you kept your kind smiles and left it at that. You didn’t mention the events of the night or day prior. You left them where they should stay because those moments together were moments of Tom’s vulnerability. How he acts now, after the fact, will determine where you both stand. You only want him to at least keep up your friendship, going to the gym everyday with friendly banter and cheeky smiles. And lucky for you, that’s what Tom really wants, too.

However, instead of the gym, you always ended up at Tom’s turning on a movie and talking. With Tom’s side, he wasn’t too keen on going to the gym and you were more than okay with that because you just want him to heal and feel better. So, movie nights after work with a pizza and popcorn as a snack becomes your new normal for the next five days.

At first, you always started off on opposite sides of the couch, sharing the grey blanket but as the few days went by, you found yourselves growing closer until you were back to holding hands and you leaning your head on his shoulder. Sure, it seemed you had taken ten steps forward but nine steps back but that was okay because neither of you wanted to express anything in a time of vulnerability and fear. That would lead to a disaster and Tom already promised himself that this would be different. He’d go slow. Slow meant taking five days to cuddle into each other which, to his surprise, felt amazing and relieving, comforting even.

Now, it’s the day before the end of the bet and Tom’s arm is around you, your head on his chest while you play with his fingers of his opposite hand. They’re calloused but warm and soft, strong and thin. His knuckles are cracked and chapped, the red standing out against the paleness of his skin.

“Tom?” You ask and a rumble goes through his chest with a hum. “You busy tomorrow?”

“Nah,” Tom says, looking down at you. “Harrison’s got work and after, I guess he’s goin’ out with the girl from the coffee place.” Tom moves his stare back to the TV, Lost playing on the TV this time, a show Tom had convinced you to watch with him.

“My mom flew in today.” You say, waiting for Tom to respond.

“Yeah? Where from?” He asks, realizing you haven’t told him much about anything about your mom.

“Oregon.” You say simply. “My dad’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Tom says, his hand on your shoulder, rubbing slow and soft circles as he looks back to you.

“Yeah, that’s why the shop is closed tomorrow, there’s a party. He’s turning sixty, ya know? So, my mom is having a party at the house and there’s gonna be family and family friends and stuff.”

“That so?” Tom says, a feeling in his stomach as to what you’re hinting at.

“Yeah,” You look up at him. “Uh, do…do you maybe wanna come? My dad said you could…”

Tom’s brows furrow in confusion. He jerks his shoulder, hinting for you to lean up. You move up and face him, ready to retract your question but Tom starts first as he sits up.

“Thought your dad hated me?”

“He does.” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair. “But,” You shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know, he said I could bring you if I wanted.”

“And…ya want me to come?”

“Yeah…” Your cheeks burn red. “I just…I don’t know. You don’t have to or anything but if you don’t have anything to do, maybe it’d be fun. There’ll be a lot of food and your face looks better and…you could meet my mom.”

Tom’s hand grow a little clammy with the thought of meeting your mom, or even anyone in relation to you. “Think she’ll like me?”

“Uh, I don’t know. She’ll love you or hate you.”

“Reassuring, darling.” Tom scoffs but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

You bite your lip, not wanting to ask if that was a yes or no. No one ever really meets your family but you spend all of your time with Tom and when you told your mom about him, she expressed how badly she wnts to meet him while she’s in town. Tom can see the anxiety running across your face. He puts his hands on either side of him and sits all the way up before grabbing your arms and pulling you to sit on his lap.

“I’ll go.” He says once you’re seated, straddling him.

“You will?” Your face lights up with the question.

“Not like I’ve anything else to do.” Tom squints an eye and rubs his thumbs against your hips. “But,” He licks his lips and you quirk a brow. “Can you tell me ‘bout your mum? Don’t talk much about her, curious what I should expect.”

“Oh? Do you care about what she thinks about you?” You challenge.

“Maybe.” Tom answers proudly.

“Why?” You press but a smirk rests against your lips.

In the five days you’ve been hanging out, it’s become more and more obvious that you don’t care about the rules of the bet anymore. You never told Tom but you’re affectionate, more than you ever should have been if the rules were still in play. You never do anything besides cuddle and hold hands, not even a comfort kiss on the top of the head or the forehead. It’s all completely platonic but you have your suspicions, your hopes, that Tom likes you.  _Just,_  likes you. You like him and all you need is for him to tell you, you’re not getting your hopes up.

Tom shakes his head, not feeding into the game. “Just because, gotta be prepared.”

You laugh and nod. “Okay, Holland, make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” Tom asks, his eyes wide and his words full of fake curiosity.

“I’ll tell you about my mom if you tell me about yours.”

Tom squeezes your hips and the playful smile falls into one of adornment. “Alright, ya, you first though.”

You lick your lips, soft smile not even daring to move. “She lives in Oregon. She works with Bengel tigers, trying to keep them from going extinct and there’s this program in Oregon so when she got the offer, she took it. I was about eighteen when she moved, it was right after graduation.”

Tom’s face contorts into all sorts of confusion, as if trying to remember back to elementary school life science. “Tigers, don’t they live in Africa or some shit?”

“Asia!” You defend and Tom throws his head back in laughter.

“My bad! I’m not a zoologist!”

“Lions live in Africa, Tom.”

“Okay, but last I checked, Oregon isn’t in Asia or Africa.”

“Shut up.” You groan and rest your forehead on his chest.

“Sorry,” Tom chuckles, “Go on.”

You lean up and shake your head. “There are ten program locations for this specific project to try and keep them from going extinct. One in Portland, one in Melbourne, one in London, another in Ottawa, and then the rest are in places like Bangladesh and Nepal.”

Tom nods, all jokes aside, intrigued to hear more about your mom’s work and the animals. Part of him is convinced this is probably why you’re as kind as you are. Animals. Your mom moving just to try and keep them from going extinct. Surely, that has to have something to do with it.

“So, she kind of hangs out with tigers all day and works in a lab. It’s really cool and she tells me about all the time.”

“It sounds cool.” Tom says, hoping you continue.

“Yeah, I got to go once and meet some cubs and it was the coolest thing.”

Your face is split by the biggest smile and Tom has to return it. Tom’s eyes exam every line your face as you continue to tell him about the research your mom’s told you about and the time you got to see the cubs. Tom hangs onto every single word as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. Your face is bright and your hands move to express your excitement, making Tom give light chuckles.

“Close with your mum then, ya?”

“Yeah,” You say with a soft shrug. “Kind of tell her everything.”

“Everything?” Tom raises a brow, a string of anxiety hitting him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, you’ve mentioned him.

“Mhm.” Your face turns bright red. “Kind of told her about you…” You mumble as you bite your lip.

“And what’d you tell her? I’m just fuckboy you made a bet with? And I’m arognatn and narcassistic, not a very good person.” Tom quips, laughter escaping his chapped lips.

“Yes.” You smirk and Tom’s grip on your hips tightens as he shakes you, signaling it wasn’t funny despite the smile across his face. “Of course, not.” You shake your head, your hands going to Tom’s sides, gripping his shirt. “I just said you’re a new friend and my neighbor and a co-worker.”

“That all?” Tom asks.

“Maybe.” You giggle. “But I’m not gonna tell you.” Your eyes widen teasingly.

“C’mon, ya can’t leave me hanging, darling.” Tom pouts but you shake your head.

“Nope. Stays between my mom and I.”

“Come onnnn.” Tom whines, his hands creeping up youur sides.

“Don’t you dare!” You warn as his hands stop on your sides.

“What?” Tom plays an innocent act. “I just wanna know what else you’ve said.”

“You’re gonna tickle me, you butthead.”

Tom’s eyes roll as he laughs. “You’ve got to come up with better insults.”

“My insults are fine.” You stick your tongue out but is quick to let out a yell when Tom squeezes your sides.

You laugh with the jump, your hands gripping Tom’s wrists while he laughs at your reaction.

“Wanna tell me?” He asks, smirk bright and wide.

“No!” You yell. “Now you don’t get-”

Tom cuts you off, squeezing your sides again but this time not stopping. You squirm against him, your chest hitting his and then backing away, trying to get away. Your breath becomes heavy with all the laughing and Tom doesn’t let up, he just mocks you, telling you all you have to do is tell him what you’ve said about him. But, you aren’t going to cave. You falls backward, Tom following your fall and one of his hands catches himself, landing to one side of your head, the other still on your side while he hovers over you. His movements slow and your laugh subsides as your cheeks ache.

Your legs are on either side of him and his eyes are locked with yours. Silence consumes you while your hands slowly grab the fabric of Tom’s loose t-shirt at his sides. Your heart is beating faster than it has in forever and Tom can’t breathe. It was all just fun and laughter but he’s leaning over you and your breath is just fanning his face and your eyes are so bright and beautiful. You want him to meet your mom the next day and the way you’re watching him, hope in your eyes, it’s sending chills down Tom’s spine and he’s scared that if he doesn’t make a move, he won’t get the chance again.

The hand on your side comes to cup the side of your face, his thumb lightly rubbing your cheek. Your hands go to Tom’s hips, careful not to slide your hands under his shirt. Tom licks his lips as his eyes move between yours and your lips. For the first time, he’s questioning if he should ask and if he does and you say no, then what? It’d be embarrassing but then what if you say yes and his lips are too chapped and it’s horrible. But, then, what if he shouldn’t ask and just do it? Tom’s never thought this hard about a kiss before so he takes his chances.

“Is, uh,” Tom’s breath catches in his throat as his elbow bends, allowing him to get just a little closer to your face. “Hey.” Tom whispers, his breath fanning over your face.

“Hey…” You whisper, your grip tightening, waiting and hoping, terrified to make the move.

Tom’s nose brushes against yours, you just barely moving your nose against his, your lips brushing together with the movement. There’s so much hesitance that neither of you can breathe. Tom moves just a little more, his lips brushing against yours just a little more, testing to see if you would pull away, but you don’t. His eyes dart up to yours before going back to your lips. With one last brush of Tom’s thumb across your cheek, his lips press softly against yours.

It’s just soft but both of your chests heave with every passing second until Tom pulls away. His cheeks are bright red and there’s fear in his eyes mixed with complete and utter adornment and the smallest touch of lust.

“That alright?” Tom whispers, his voice barely holding still.

“Yeah,” You whisper back.

Tom’s forehead rests against yours for a few seconds, his eyes closed and yours follow suit, the two of you staying like that, to sit int he moment, scared to move or breathe wrong because you’re both afraid the other will evaporate, that’s it not real and too good to be true. But, you both open your eyes and you’re still there and it’s perfect.

Your hands come up to Tom’s cheeks while Tom collides his lips with yours, this time harder, needier. Your mouths move in sync, not skipping a beat and Tom’s tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for permission and it’s the best kiss Tom’s ever had, your tongue moving with his and his eyes are closed but stars fill the darkness and you’re so fucking perfect.

You taste like July. Strawberry mixed with the touch of wild berry like a Bomb Pop. And you’re warm and happy. The kiss is light-hearted and easy, like the middle of July, knowing there’s no school for another month and school’s already been out a month. It’s the middle of July and everything is warm and happy, bonfires with best friends. Rooftop conversation and stargazing in the back of the truck with the tailgate down. Laughter with the people you care the most about and the idea that this is going to last forever even though July eventually ends, fall will be around the corner. July because he’s home for the summer and everyone he loves is there or there’s so much traveling but no matter where he goes, he’s with the people he loves. So it’s always feeling like home. You taste just like July and if July could last a lifetime, Tom would never pull away. 

You aren’t even focused on breathing, just focused on keeping up with Tom, pulling him as close to you possible, careful not to break contact. You’ve been dying to kiss him for a week and you’re finally doing it and it’s everything you never expected because it’s so needy and soft, filled with the fear that it’ll stop but you have no intentions on stopping anytime soon because you’re ready to go on that bender in the middle of winter.

He tastes like winter. Minty and cinnamon like cinnamon rolls after the first snowfall of the new winter and candy canes hanging from Christmas trees and garlins. It’s spicey and tingles your lips in a way that makes you fall endlessly addicted. It’s winter where you expect ice but it’s warm like walking into a house with a roaring fire in the fireplace. And the coldest nights buddles up with someone you love with your favorite TV show or movie on. It’s the sense of comfort that lays behind closed doors and walls while white flurries cover the ground. The sense of home and family all gathered and that one Christmas song you actually love more than anything. This boy is like winter and you never thought you’d ever say you love winter so much.

Tom pulls away, lips swollen and glistening. “Hey.” He chuckles.

“Hey.” You giggle, your thumb moving down his lips.

“Quite good at that.” Tom says.

“You, too.” You say, trying to catch your breath.

Tom rests his forehead against yours and your eyes flutter closed. You question if you could lay like this forever? Him above you with his forehead pressed against yours. It’s so safe here and warm. Tom is so safe and comfortable and warm. Nothing could happen if you’re with him and you just want to say this. You repeat it in your head like a mantra, pleading to the universe to keep you this way. Just like this. Promising you’d do anything if this doesn’t stop.

A soft kiss to the tip of your nose brings you back and your eyes open, meeting Tom’s. “What’re you thinkin’ bout there?” Tom asks.

“You.” You say and your heart is in your ears but you don’t care, it can beat as fast as it wants. It could beat right out of your chest at this point and it’d be okay.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod softly.

“What about me?” Tom asks but the question is so innocent that all you can do is turn your head and kiss his arm that’s beside your head.

“Just you.”

Tom sucks in a breath, your words giving him the courage to ask. “Is it okay if I like you?” Tom asks slowly and his head is slightly cocked to the left, his brows just pinched together.

“Is it okay if I like you, too?” You ask in the same scared and hesitant tone.

Tom’s eyes look from your eyes to your lips and back up. “Please.” Tom whispers and it’s a plea as he kisses your cheek, before his head rests in the crook of her neck.

“I like you so much it’s driving me insane.” You kiss his cheek and Tom’s head shoots up.

“Thank fuck.” He says with relief, kissing you once more and the taste of summer consumes his senses all over again.

Your mouths start moving in sync again, Tom’s arm that’s holding him up starts to shake from the position but he makes no effort to move. His sole focus is you and the moment. Everything feels like it’s on fire in the best way and his mouth is already sore, his cheeks ache and his breathing is labored.

Tom pulls away and you slide your hands back to Tom’s sides, mindful of the side that’s still injured. “Mouth is fuckin’ sore.” Tom mumbles, going right back to kissing you.

“Mine, too.” You mutter into his mouth, no effort on pulling away.

“Should we stop?” He asks, barely stopping to ask the question before continuing.

“Probably.” You answer but don’t pull away, which makes Tom start laughing, still trying to keep up with kissing.

“Making it hard to stop.” Tom teases.

“Yeah?” You whisper, sliding your hands under Tom’s shirt.

Tom shoots up and moves your hands. “Why are your hands so fuckin’ cold?” His eyes are wide as he’s straddling you while you can’t control your laughter.

“Because it’s winter!”

“I’m gettin’ you those hand warmer things.” Tom mocks, grabbing your hands and cupping them in his before bringing them to his mouth, blowing hot air to try and warm them.

“You’re a dork.” You giggle.

“But you like me.” Tom wiggles his brows and a cocky grin comes onto his face.

“I’ll push you to the floor, Tommy.”

Tom’s raises his brows quickly with the nickname he hasn’t heard from your mouth in almost a week.

_Say it again._

 “I’ll take you with me.”

“That so?” You pull your hands from Tom and pushes him off you and sure enough, Tom’s quick to grab you and you both fall to the floor in a thump, you landing on top Tom.

“Ow.” He groans.

“I don’t know what else I expected.” You laugh, this time you kiss Tom first but pull his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away, gaining you a whimper from Tom.

“You’re not funny.” Tom narrows his eyes.

“I think so.” You grin wildly, sitting up and straddling him once more. “Should I get you a light again?”

“God.” Tom groans before laughing. “Let the joke die.”

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out and Tom shakes his head before quickly poking your sides, tickling you again. “Okay, dead. It’s dead.” You say quickly.

“What I thought, smartass.” Tom quips before the room falls silent again.

Your hands rest on Tom’s firm chest while you look around his living room, the few framed pictures hanging on the walls holding your attention and begging you to ask about his family. That was the deal anyway.

“So, about your mom?” You ask, hope back in your eyes.

Tom nods once, his hands going to your hips so he could sit up. “What do’ya wanna know?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Just about her, I guess. Or any of your family really. You don’t talk about them much.”

“Yeah,” Tom pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I, uh,” His brows furrow as he takes a deep breath. “They’re just a little disappointed in me right now, ya know? But, we’re still close I suppose. Talk mostly with Harry, he’s a younger brother, him and his twin, Sam. Paddy’s the youngest.”

“You have three brothers?” You ask, a little surprised.

“Yep.” Tom smiles with pride.

“Your poor mother.” You mock.

“Really,” Tom agrees. “We were all bloody messes growing up but she always puts us in our places.”

“Good, I’m sure all of you need it.”

“We do.” Tom admits. “Think she’d like you.” Tom’s voice is almost inaudible.

“Really?” You nearly gasps.

Tom nods. “Yeah, you’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

Tom shakes his head and his eyes go a little distant. “Nothing.”

“Too much?” You ask.

“Kinda.”

“Okay, when you’re ready.”

Tom chuckles and rests his head against your chest before pulling back. “What time we going tomorrow?”

“Leave around two.” You smile, still in shock he agreed to go.

“In that case,” Tom taps your thighs, gesturing for you to get off of him. “Care to stay tonight?” Tom asks boldly. “Can sleep on separate couches, nothing more.” He adds in quickly.

“What do you have planned?” You ask as you stand with Tom.

Tom rubs the back of his neck. “Ya got me.” He chuckles. “I want you to stay anyway, but Haz’s got a date tonight and he was wondering if maybe you could help him get ready. Really likes this girl.”

“If he’s going on two planned dates back to back, it sounds like he does. But,” You smile. “Guess I could help.”

“Yeah?” Tom asks, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you into him. “If I can borrow your hoodie again.”

“You’re wearing a jumper.” Tom points out, a cornered smirk on display.

“I know.” You bite your lip. “But…I like yours.”

Tom chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Can borrow it long as you want.” Tom presses a kiss to your forehead.

“We should get back to the show then, before Harrison comes because we got a little distracted.” Your cheeks turn bright red with your words.

“Alright.” Tom nods and presses a quick kiss to your lips before leading you to the couch. 

You lay down, taking the positions you had previously, grey blanket covering you both and your hand in Tom’s.

_Warm._


	15. family

The screen on Tom’s TV shined through the living room that was slowly growing dim with the sun setting. The screen only showed the option to continue playing the next episode of Lost but your head was pressed against Tom’s chest and your arm draped around his waist while Tom’s held you close to him and soft snores fell from his mouth. The two of you had fallen asleep two episodes ago. You were first to fall asleep, leaving Tom to chuckle to himself and pull the blanket up higher just to be sure you’d be warm enough but he was soon falling asleep after.

But, now the doorknob is jigging and Harrison is strolling through the door with a backpack thrown over his shoulder. He sees the TV on when he walks in and heads to the living room. His mouth opens to say something until he finds you and Tom sound asleep on the couch. He smiles at his friends and he wants to thank whoever is up there looking after Tom for this moment. Harrison shrugs and pulls his out his phone, taking a quick picture of the two of you. Tom’s a cliche even if he won’t admit it right now and Harrison knows he’d kill for the picture later.

“Aye,” Harrison taps Tom’s leg. “Tom, wake up.”

“Huh?” Tom mumbles, squinting his eyes and meeting Harrison’s.

“Wake up.” Harrison chuckles.

“Right.” Tom’s voice is groggy as he lightly shakes you to wake up.

“Hmm?” You hum.

“Haz is here.” Tom’s voice is so groggy that you smile against him and instead of looking to the end of the couch where Harrison stood, you looked up to Tom. “What?” He quirked a brow but there’s a tired, uncontrollable smile on his face.

“Nothing.” You look to Harrison and stretch. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Harrison looks at the two of you with confusion, the two of you seeming far more acquainted than he thought. “You guys…?” Harrison asks, waiting for you to fill in the blanks.

Both of you shake your heads quickly. “No, no.” Tom says. “Friends.” He says.

“Just friends.” You affirm.

“You look pretty comfortable.” Harrison gives you a knowing smirk.

“If ya want help for your date, you’d better fuck off.” Tom threatens.

“Alright, alright.” Harrison puts his hands up in defense. “I just don’t know what to wear.” Harrison’s attention goes to you.

“You always seem to be dressed fine when I see you. How is this different?” You sit up and Tom follows your lead.

Harrison rolls his shoulders. “Just is, it’s a date. Different.”

“Well, what do you have and what are you doing?”

“Okay,” Harrison takes in a deep breath and goes to the front of the couch, waiting for Tom to move his legs so he can sit. “I have these shirts and trousers. We’re going to the cinema and dinner.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Tom chimes in, questioning Harrison in a slick navy jacket and a grey t-shirt underneath, and black jeans covering his legs.

“Feels too casual and I’m not taking advice from you. You’ve terrible fashion sense.”

You giggle, nodding in agreement as Tom crosses his arms over his chest. “Dress fine.”

You roll your eyes at Harrison, Tom not being able to see your expression. “But, he isn’t wrong. There really isn’t anything wrong with what you’re wearing.”

“I gotta impress her.” Harrison urges.

You look to Tom who shakes his head but gestures his hand out, telling you to help his friend. “Okay.” You say. “Go put this shirt and these pants on and then come out here.” You point to a maroon turtleneck and nice black pants that weren’t quite slacks.

Harrison grabs his clothes and rushes to the bathroom to change.

“So, he really likes this girl.” You state.

“Never seen him like this with anyone else.” Tom shrugs a shoulder. “She just better treat ‘im well.”

“He really doesn’t date? I mean, he’s cute and really nice.”

Tom’s brows raise and his face drops. “You think he’s cute?”

You laugh and crawls over to Tom. “Yes.” You give him a smile, watching his jaw clench in response. Your hands cup his face, taking in how dark his brown eyes have gotten. “But you’re so much cuter.”

Tom licks his lips, his eyes looking to the ceiling and back to you, a smile fighting to tug at his lips. “Hope so.” Tom says, closing the distance and kissing you softly.

You pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss, happiness and adrenaline running through your veins. Your mouths move in sync as Tom almost instinctively, pushes you back on the couch, a firm hand on your hip. And he’s so addicted to the taste of July that he doesn’t hear the bathroom door and you want to live in winter forever so much that you’re convinced it’s just you again. Until Harrison clears his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Harrison chuckles.

You and Tom pull away but Tom doesn’t make any efforts to actually move away  _from_  you.

“The bloody hell are you wearing?” Tom groans, sitting up, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Yeah that was a bad idea. You look ridiculous.” You state.

“That bad?”

“Yes.” Tom and you say at the same time.

“I mean, for a date. You look like you’re going to like, a fancy Christmas party or something. And you cannot wear that blue polo.”

“You’re not helping, much.” Harrison sighs.

“That’s the jacket you have? The dark blue one?” You ask, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Uh, yeah, why?” Harrison furrows his brows.

“Can I go through your clothes?” You turn to look at Tom.

“Uh, sure?” Tom quirks a brow and before he can say anything else, you’re moving to Tom’s room.

Harrison and Tom look at each other with questioning looks but both just shake their heads. While they wait for you to come back, Harrison takes your seat and just stares at Tom.

“So, care to explain what I walked in on?”

A smile as wide as Tom’s face forms. “She likes me.”

Harrison laughs. “Yeah?” There’s happiness in the word.

“Yeah.” Tom nods.

“Good for you, mate. She’s a good one.”

“Think so?” Tom asks, the smile falling slightly

“Ever steered you wrong?” Harrison asks.

“There was that one time-”

“About a girl.” Harrison quickly corrects.

“Nah,” Tom shakes his head, a chuckle escaping his lips as he runs a hand through his hair. “Meeting her family tomorrow.”

“No shit.” Harrison says, shock consuming his face. “Not gonna back out, are you?”

“Asked her to stay.” Tom states. “Won’t back out if she’s here.”

Harrison nods understandingly. “You two together then or?”

“No.” Tom says quickly, eyes wide.

“You tell her that?” Harrison raises a knowing brow.

“No…” Tom admits. “I will though, after you leave.”

“Long as you’re honest with her. Just not ready, aye?”

“Don’t.” Tom warns.

“I’m not, just asking.” Harrison puts his hands up in defense just as you come back.

“Wear those black pants, this white shirt, your boots, and then your jacket.” You hand Harrison one of Tom’s shirts.

“That’s it?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah, casual but not too casual. White looks better than grey and you need to fix your hair. It looks like you’ve run your hand through it all day.”

“Alright?” Harrison says and rushes back to the bathroom to change.

You take your seat once more. “Heard you guys, by the way.” You say softly, fiddling with your fingers before looking back to Yom.

“Oh?” He says, waiting to see exactly what you had heard.

“It’s okay. I don’t want a label anyway. They’re a lot and stuff.” You admit with absolute honesty.

“Really?” Complete and utter relief fills Tom’s entire face with your words.

“Yeah,” You laugh. “It doesn’t bother me not slap some label on this. We like each other and that’s that. It’s none of anyone’s else’s business what we decide or what we’re doing.”

“You’re bloody incredible.” Tom gives you a lopsided smile before moving closer you and cupping your face, kissing you again.

“You’re incredible at that.”

“Could do this all night.” Tom mumbles against your lips.

“Not opposed.” You giggle, deepening the kiss just as Harrison rushes back to you.

“Okay, really?” Harrison says, shifting his weight to one side.

“Like you’re not gonna be doing the same all night.” Tom quips, pulling away as your face heats up.

“There! You look great!” You exclaim as you takes in the sight of Harrison. “Now fix your hair.”

Harrison gives you a cheesy smile and you sigh before looking to Tom. “Go ahead.” He says.

You follow Harrison to Tom’s bathroom. Harrison takes a seat on the toilet seat while directing you to where Tom keeps an excessive amount of hair gel. You put some of the gel on your hands and start working with Harrison’s hair, remembering how you’ve seen it the times you’ve hung out with him.

Tom watches from the doorway, you concentrating to make sure you don’t mess up Harrison’s hair. Harrison’s knee bounces with nerves with every passing second. A smile comes to Tom’s face with the sight of the girl he likes and his best friend. You even look like you’re just close friends hanging out. It’s nice and warms Tom’s heart. There’s only been one other girl that Harrison has been this acquainted with before and she meant the world to Tom. So, to see Harrison like this with you, it was a huge relief and nothing but heartwarming. It’s further proof that Harrison likes you and has full faith that you have potential. That you’re not out to break his heart. You’re just there because you like him.

You finish Harrison’s hair and you give him a pep talk as well as do’s and don’t’s, still a little confused why he even needs any of your help. But, you help anyway with the occasional quip and joke from Tom. The time finally came and it was time for Harrison to head out, leaving you and Tom alone again.

“Care to change and we can order in?” Tom asks, the two of you standing in the kitchen.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You give him a wide smile.

“You get the clothes and I’ll ring up the Chinese place down the block?”

“Okay.” You agree before giving him your order.

You make your way to his bedroom and go in the drawers you’d gone into nearly a week prior. You grab pajama pants and shirts, as well as the one blue and orange hoodie Tom said you could borrow. You dropped the clothes off in the kitchen for Tom while he was still placing the order and you went to the bathroom to change. By the time you reemerged, Tom was off the phone and slipping his pajama pants on, shirtless.

“I’m sorry.” Your face heats up as you turn away quickly.

Tom laughs as he finishes pulling his pants up. “‘S okay.” He grabs his pants from the floor and walks to you, stopping right before you. “Not like I’m naked.” He whispers in your ear, goosebumps forming on the back of your neck with his warm breath.

You turn around, only to be met with a playful smirk and Tom still shirtless. “You’re funny.” You remark.

“Hilarious.” Tom corrects, and snakes an arm around your waist. “Food should be here in about fifteen.” His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead while his chest is pressed against yours.

“Good, I’m starving.” You say.

“Making out does that.” Tom remarks, earning him a narrowed eyed stare. “It does.” Tom tosses his head back laughing before kissing your forehead again.

“Yeah,” You shake your head, bringing your hands up to his sides, making Tom jump in response. You burst into a fit of laughter. “If you wore a shirt, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“Oh? So you have a problem with me not wearing a shirt?” Tom jokes, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps flex and his abs become more defined with every breath he takes. A smirk comes across his lips, seeing how you stare.

“No, actually.” You say shyly. “No problem.”

“Eyes up here, darling.” Tom quips, pointing to his big brown eyes.

“Shut up.” You groan and move past him, back to the couch.

Tom smiles to himself as he walks back to his room to put his clothes in his laundry basket. He grabs the shirt from the table on his way back into the living room, tossing it over his head. Tom moves and sits right next to you; you had your legs hugged into your chest. Tom wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into his side, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“What was that for?” You ask, looking to him.

“Just because.” Tom says quietly, shrugging his shoulders.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek. “Just because.” You smile sweetly and put your attention back on the TV playing the episode of Lost you’d fallen asleep during.

The two of you remain like that until the food comes. Tom gets the food from the delivery man and you and Tom take separate sides of the couch, each of you leaning on either arm of the couch, your legs outstretched against each other’s. You ate your food in a comfortable silence, watching as the group of plane crash victims ran into a polar bear.

Tom kept stealing glances every now and then. You usually had your fork in hand, barely sticking out of the takeout container and your full attention on the TV. The blue hoodie complimented you well but maybe that was just because it was his and Tom’s sure anything of his would look perfect on you. But, there’s more. It’s domestic, like you’d been doing this for months. Sitting down, eating, and watching TV together, no talking, just watching and eating. Tom doesn’t feel the need to fill the air with words and you don’t either. You’re content with each other and comfortable. You’re already comfortable enough to just be together. There’s still some fear ticking in the back of Tom’s head but it’s nothing compared to how sure he is about you.

The night came and went and soon, it was the morning. You were waking up in the same spot you’d fallen asleep, closest to the back of the couch while Tom was at the opposite end. After you had finished eating, you continued to watch the show and laughed, joked around and stole private smiles but you were first to fall asleep. Tom didn’t want to wake you so he didn’t move you or move beside you, he just stayed put and you couldn’t be happier. He was determined not to overstep but not leave you alone. And, he looks so peaceful as he sleeps, his mouth slightly open and soft snores leave his mouth. His hair is all of over the place and he just looks like a beautiful disaster.

You readjust and carefully crawl up to Tom, nuzzling your way into the side of the couch and between Tom’s chest. He groans and shakes his head further into the arm of the couch as you get comfortable, his warmth radiating to you. You place a kiss to his nose and his eyes flutter open. A tired smile immediately falls onto his face.

“Morning, darlin’.” Tom’s groggy morning voice falls onto your ears and it’s so perfect, just like it was the last time.

“Morning.” You smile.

Tom presses a kiss to your forehead, shutting his eyes again. “Been up long?”

“No, just woke up.” Your voice is far too chirper for just waking up.

“Why are you so awake?” Tom gives you a quiet chuckle, peaking an eye open.

“I’m always this awake when I get good sleep.” You say nonchalantly and Tom’s heart flutters.

“You sleep well here?”

You shake your head, burying it into Tom’s chest as his arm pulls you into him. “Yeah, yeah I do.” You whisper into his clothing, the soft sent of his fabric softener clouding your senses.

Tom places a kiss on top of your head and you pray to the universe that he never stops with the gentle kisses. “I’m glad.” He whispers as you pick your head back up.

“You’re meeting my mom, today.” You smile sweetly.

“Yep.” Tom says and the fluttering stops and is replaced with anxiety.

“I think she’ll like you.” You say, noticing the sudden change on Tom’s face.

“Hope so.” He says.

“Well, we should get up and eat, get ready.” You state quickly.

“What time is it?” Tom quirks a brow.

“Uh,” You start, searching for your phone, realizing it’s probably fallen on the floor. So, Tom reaches into his pocket and pulls it out, realizing he needs to charge it before you go. He shows you the phone and buries his head into your shoulder. “It’s after eight, up.” You say.

“You’re bloody insane.” Tom groans, burying his head further into your shoulder.

“You’re insane.” You retort, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, Tommy get up. We gotta get ready.” A smile pulls at his lips with the nickname and he hates how you just say it and it makes his head spin.

He looks up to you and shakes his head but kisses your lips softly. “Okay.” He nods and stretches before getting up from the couch, offering his hand for you to get up.

The two of you walk around Tom’s kitchen, you preparing coffee and Tom looking through the fridge and cabinets for something for the two of you to eat. He finds pancake mix and settles on that. You move around the kitchen, not bumping into each other but instead like you do this every morning. You smile at each other, getting each other things as the other needs them and it’s so nice. The two of you are used to doing your morning routines alone but it’s nice to do them with someone, with each other.

By the time you were done eating breakfast, you were going back to your place to shower and get ready, leaving Tom to do the same. You promised you’d be back just before two so you could leave. And you did. Your fist knocked lightly on the door and Tom opened it, his hair gelled nicely, a curl falling onto his forehead. A nicer tan jacket hangs around his shoulders, a black t-shirt underneath, and black jeans decorated his legs. A silver chain with a ring and a small emblem hangs down the center of his chest.

Tom looks you up and down. You’re wearing dark blue jeans and his blue and orange hoodie under your pink winter coat. Your hair is in a loose ponytail that just falls over your shoulder and you have minimal makeup on. It’s so casual but it makes Tom’s heart skip a beat anyway.

“You look nice.” Tom says, allowing you inside.

“I’m wearing your hoodie.” You tease.

“Yeah,” Tom chuckles. “Fair.”

“You look nice, though.” You says, proud smile on display. “I like the jacket.”

“So, this is okay?” He asks, tugging at the sleeves.

“Perfect.”

“Cool.” Tom takes in a sigh of relief as he puts his hands in his pockets.

“Ready to go then?” You ask.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tom nods nervously, grabbing his red coat from the chair.

The two of you make your way out to your car. Tom offered to drive but seeing as he doesn’t know where your house is, you find it easier for you to just drive. The short drive to your parents’ house was fairly quiet. You had your own music playing but Tom was just staring out the window, fidgeting with his sleeves and staying quiet. It was weird for him to be quiet. Tom always had something to say but not now. Your guess is that he’s simply that nervous and while, two weeks ago, you would have said he would have every reason to be nervous, now is a different story. Your dad doesn’t like him based on his first impression and rightfully so but he also doesn’t like Tom for the simple fact that he doesn’t want you hurt and Tom’s a flight risk. But, no one else knows that and no one else is that protective. They’ll look at Tom for how he shows up today and who he is today, is good,  _really good_.

When you arrive at your parents’ house, you park on the street and Tom eyes the house. It’s a typical two-story house you’d expect just outside of the city. Brick, nice sized, two car garage. It’s nice and reminds Tom a little bit of his childhood home. Tom gets out of the car first and rushes to your side to open your door.

“Thanks, Tom.” You giggle, taking his hand as he helps you out.

Tom just offers you a smile in response. You lock the car and the two of you head up the driveway and into the house. There’s eighties music playing throughout the house and laughter is being heard from the kitchen. You discard your shoes before following the sound of the laughter. When you enter the kitchen, your mom is first to spot you.

“Y/n!” She chimes, rushing to bring you into a hug.

“Mom.” You smile, wrapping your arms around her.

“You look lovely.” She pulls away and cups your face. “How are you?”

“Good, good.” You nod quickly. “You?”

“Perfect, now.” She hugs you once more, her eyes falling on Tom who’s standing just behind you. “Is this Tom?” She asks as she pulls away.

“Oh, yeah. Tom, this is is my mom, mom this is Tom.” You gesture between them, your mom looking him up and down as she sticks her hand out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. y/l/n.” Tom says kindly.

“You, too, Tom.” Your mom says. “What on earth happened to your face though?” She asks, taking in his bruises and cuts, the rest of the room paying close attention.

“Uh, I was mugged ‘bout a week ago.” Tom sucks in a breath and looks to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Your mom asks quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He nods quickly.

“I made sure he was okay, Mom.” You reassure.

“As long as you’re okay.” She says and Tom nods, reassuring her.  “He’s cute.” She whispers into your ear as she goes to make her way back to the oven.

“Mom.” Your eyes widen as you speak through gritted teeth.

“Y/n.” Your mom mocks.

“Sorry.” You apologize to Tom who’s smiling wide with pink tinted cheeks.

“It’s okay.” Tom chuckles.

“Uh, okay. So, this is the family and family friends.” You gesture to the large table with ten people seated. “It’s not everyone yet, but it’s enough.” You say before going around the table and introducing him to everyone.

“Y/n!” A soft voice pulls your attention behind you where a young child with dark hair runs towards you.

“Sophie!” You chime in the same voice, squatting down to pick up the little girl. “How’re you?”

“Good.” Sophie smiles, holding up her stuffed Flounder. “Look what Daddy got me.”

“Yeah? That for your birthday?” You ask, taking the stuffed toy, showing Sophie your interest.

“Yes.” She says, taking the toy back.

“So cool. Ya know, Flounder was always one of my favorites.”

“Really?” Sophie asks with excitement.

“Yeah! He’s a talking fish! How cool is that!” You beam and Sophie giggles.

Tom watches the interaction and he never even asked if you had any cousins or anything. But now he wishes he had. You beam looking at the little girl and you know how to keep a conversation and keep her entertained. It reminds him of spending time with his youngest brother and his heart just swells in his chest. He’s solely convinced there’s not a single thing wrong with you.

“Who’s that?” Sophie  _tries_ to whisper as she looks to Tom and point her finger.

“This is my best friend, Tom.” You smile.

“Hey, Sophie.” Tom smiles and offers the little girl his hand. She takes it and shakes it softly before pulling it back quickly and hugging the toy. “You like the Little Mermaid, aye?”

“Mhm.” She hums and you watch Tom interact with Sophie in your arms.

“Mermaids,” Tom leans in and whispers. “Are the coolest of the ocean.”

Sophie beams with Tom’s words. “Are they real?”

Tom looks to you while you look all too amused. “You can’t tell anyone, can you keep a secret?” Tom asks. Sophie nods quickly. “They’re so real.”

Sophie gasps and looks to you. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, you did.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Why does he sound funny?” Sophie changes subject quickly.

“You wanna take this, Tom?” You ask as you notice the older adults have ceased their conversation to watch Tom, you, and Sophie interact. You don’t bring anyone around family, ever. So, this is all new and the fact you’re allowing Tom to communicate with Sophie like this, they’re all floored and in awe.

“I’m from a place called London.” Tom says. “This is how we talk there.”

“Why?” Sophie asks, her voice more a demand.

“I dunno.” He shakes his head but the smile doesn’t even dare to budge. “I do sound pretty weird, huh?” Sophie nods quickly.

“But it’s cool, right?” You chime in and Sophie nods again.

“Like Brave.” She says.

“Yeah, like kind of Merida and her family, that’s right. They sound different.” You say, just going with what she says understanding what she meant. “Hey, do you wanna watch one of your movies after dinner? I wanna show Tom around.”

“Yes, please.” Sophie hugs around your neck.

“Okay, make sure you know what movie you want to watch when we’re ready?”

“When?” Sophie asks.

“Mmm,” You hum and look to your mom. She nods to you. “After you eat all of your food and Tom and me are done. We have to clean our plates and then we’ll watch it.”

“Okay.” Sophie smiles and you put your down, allowing her to run off to wherever she was playing last.

“Well,” You take in a deep breathe, your family and friends shif in their seats to go back to their conversations. “I’m gonna show Tom around, dinner in fifteen?”

“You got it,” Your mom nods and sends you a thumbs up.

“C’mon,” You jerk your head. “Show you upstairs first.”

The group watches you lead Tom up the stairs and out of their view which just means they’ll be discussing you not only bringing home someone, but some British boy none of them have ever heard of. You’re well aware that they’ll be discussing it but you push it out of your head as you scale the stairs, Tom right on your heels.

As you get up the stairs, Tom feels like he can breathe. The initial meeting is the second hardest part. The first would be the dinner but he made it through meeting everyone, including two of your favorite people so it’s going quite well already. At least, Tom is convincing himself it is so he doesn’t freak out and make himself look like an idiot or look like what your dad views him as.

“So,” You start as you grip the handle to a white wooden door. “There really isn’t much to show you.” You give him a nervous laugh and he quirks a brow. “I just know they all want to talk about you and me downstairs.” You giggle and open the door, revealing a room.

You walk inside and Tom follows you. There’s a full sized bed in the middle of a large wall and window seat with a soft pink cushion. White shelving holds tons and tons of books while there’s a desk on the opposite side of your bed, books, pens, and pencils with a notebook sit uptop of it. The rug is an off grey and it’s all around visually appealing. Even the pictures that hang around the walls in tan frames compliment the room just enough to give it a little more life. It’s nice.

“This your old room?” Tom asks.

“Yep.” You say.

“I like it.” Tom says softly.

“Thanks.” You go to push a strand of hair behind your ear, only remembering you have her hair tied to the side. You look away and move to the seat by the window, pulling your knees up to your chest. Tom takes a seat on the opposite side, making himself comfortable by taking his coat off, you following suit.

“Were you someone who sat on their roof?” Tom jokes as he looks at how easy it would be for you climb out of the window and sit on the shingles.

“I was, actually.” You admit with a soft laugh.

“Of course.” Tom nudges your leg.

“Hey, it’s nice.” You defend.

“Yeah.” Tom smiles softly. “So,” Tom starts. “Who’s Sophie?”

You laugh. “She’s a joy, isn’t she?”

“She’s cute, yeah.” Tom chuckles.

“She’s my cousin. My uncle had a tour in the Philippines about five years ago and my aunt was working with some missionary people or something so she helped at an orphanage and that’s how she met Sophie, was only a month old I think. They were able to adopt her at six months.” You explain.

“That’s cool they adopted.” Tom says, sincerity in his words.

“Yeah, they always wanted kids but my aunt had ovarian cancer so,” You shrug. “Adoption was kind of their only choice but Sophie’s great. Everything happens for a reason, ya know?”

“I’m sorry, ‘bout your aunt.”

“It’s okay, she’s been in remission for like six or seven years I think. She’s good.” You smile. “But thanks.” You fall silent for a few minutes. “So, you’re really good with Sophie. It’s nice.”

Tom chuckles. “Grow up with three younger brothers and a bunch of cousins, you get good with kids.”

“It’s adorable.” You state and a smile splits your face.

“You’re adorable.” Tom states with the lick of his lips. “Which, by the way.” Tom starts. “Best friend, aye?”

Your cheeks burn with the wiggle of Tom’s brows. “Yeah.” You shrug a shoulder. “Kind of like you and sleep with you and make out with you now, so.”

Tom has a shit-eating grin as he overlooks your backyard. “Not complaining.” Tom says.

His eyes are soft and gentle as he looks back to you and he feels like home. Tom moves closer to you and his hand find your cheek. You release your knees and allow your legs to go to the floor, closing the distance. Your nose brushes against Tom’s as your lips press against his. Tom lets out a breath through his nose like he’d been holding it since you walked in through the front door. You’re just like novacaine.

“We,” You just barely pull away to speak. “Should head back downstairs.” You say before going back for another kiss.

“Okay.” Tom grins, pulling you closer to deepening the kiss, only to bite at your bottom lip and pull away, a smirk on display.

“Jerk.” You roll your eyes as you get up.

“But you like me.” Tom states, earning him a soft nudge once he gets to his feet.

“Yeah.” You say and shake your head, looking up to him. “Yeah.” She say softly as if setting it in stone.

The two of you make your way back downstairs, your coats in hand to rest them on the coatrack by the front door. By the time you get back to the kitchen, your mom is pulling out a pasta dish, there about ten more people spread out across the kitchen, and your dad is coming back from outside, holding a plate of grilled hamburgers and hotdogs. You laugh at the sight. Rain, sleet, snow, or hail will never stop your dad from grilling.

“Hey, y/n.” Your dad greets when he sees you.

“Hey, Dad. Happy birthday.” You walk up to him and offer him a hug.

“Thank you.” He smiles as he releases you. “Tom.” Your dad states as a greeting.

“Hi, Mr. y/n. Happy birthday, sir.” Tom says, swallowing his nerves.

“Thank you.” Your dad says and offers a forced smile.

The air grows a little awkward until your mom breaks the silence, telling everyone to come get the food. You wave Tom over, grabbing him a plate and you a plate. You both get whatever food you want and makeyour way over to a second table that was set up in a dining area connected to the kitchen. Sophie came in with her mom, her mom asking if Sophie could eat with you and as luck would have it, Sophie specifically wanted to sit with Tom. Tom just chuckled and offered the seat next to him.

The three of you were joined by a few other family friends of your parents. They had plenty of questions for Tom but they mostly were about where he was from and how he had met you. None of them wanted to really approach the topic of his face and only one asked if you were actually dating, which you appreciated them backing off when you restated you were just friends.

Tom’s cheeks were flushed but he didn’t seem to even skip a beat with the conversations and he really seemed to click with your Uncle Teddy, who happens to be Sophie’s dad. He had joined you about halfway through dinner. It warmed your heart that everyone seemed to really like Tom and take to him. You couldn't’ be happier with how this was going. So, you took a risk to excuse yourself and rid your plate, leaving Tom alone.

When you got into the kitchen, your dad was rinsing his plate.

“Hey.” You say, dumping the little scraps of leftover food into the trash.

“How is it going?” Your dad asks, skipping the small talk.

“Everyone seems to like him.” You say, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

He shakes his head. “Bad news, y/n.”

“He’s not so bad, dad. He isn’t.” You sigh as your dad offers to take your plate.

“I don’t like him.” His voice is stern and steady.

“You don’t have to.” You say softly.

“He’s gonna break your heart.” Your dad says, keeping the water running and his voice low so only you can hear him.

“Dad, we’re not doing this. This is something Mom should be saying.”

“I’m looking out for you.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me all the time. I’m okay. How many times do I have to tell you that?” You cross your arms, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“You’re my daughter.”

“And you’re my dad and I’m just,” You pause for a moment. “Give him another chance.”

“No.” He says without hesitation.

“Fine.” You mumble and push yourself away from the counter, making your back into the dining room.

When you get back, your mom has taken over your seat and is making conversation with Tom. Your eyes widen but Tom is laughing and your mom is smiling. Your mom loves or hates people and she makes it known. You walk over and sit on the edge of your mom’s chair.

“Hello?” Your mom looks at you in confusion. “Can I help you?”

“You stole my seat.” You laugh.

“Well, here then.” Your mom laughs and moves over so you can share the seat.

“Movie?” Sophie pipes up, taking notice in Tom’s empty plate.

“Go put it in.” You smile. “I should help her.” You sigh.

“I can.” Tom offers, getting the idea you wanted a few minutes with your mom. “I don’t mind.”

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Tom shrugs, getting up from his seat with his plate in hand. Sophie starts tugging at Tom’s sleeve, trying to pull him with her. “See, all good.” Tom smiles. “Nice talkin’ to you.” He gives your mom a sweet smile before following Sophie out of the dining room.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Your mom whispers, other conversations being had around the table.

“We’re not.” You say, moving to Tom’s seat.

“Really?” Your mom raises her brows and you nod. “That boy looks at you like you are the sun and he is just a planet revolving around you.”

“He does not.” Your cheeks heat up with your mom’s words.

“Yes, he does.” Your mom says, emphasis on every word. “And you look at him like he puts every damn star in the sky.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your smile from showing. “We’re not together. We’re just, ya know? Seeing where things go, I guess. I don’t want the thing and he doesn’t want the thing.”

Your mom nods. “I get it. You haven’t told him, have you?”

“No…” You look away.

“Nothing? None of it?”

“Hasn’t really come up.” You admit.

Your mom sighs. “I like him. Don’t go breaking that boy’s heart.”

Your eyes widen. “You like him?”

“I think he’s a little rough around the edges and there’s more going on, but yes.”

You sigh in relief. “Dad hates him.”

“I know.” Your mom laughs. “I know but he said it’s only because Tom wasn’t very polite the first time he met him and he knows you’re interested in each other.”

“Of course he does,” You mumble, rolling your eyes. “But what he doesn’t know for sure, can’t hurt him.” You state, silently asking her mom not to say anything.

“I’m not telling him, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You chuckle softly. “I’m not gonna break his heart.” You shift in your seat with your words. Your mom gives you a knowing smile making you raise a brow in suspicion. “What?”

“He’s your one.”

“What?” You ask again.

“You remind me of me when I first met your father. He’s your one.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go watch a Disney movie before you get all rom-com on me.” You shake your head, a joking smile on your lips.

“You love 13 Going On 30.” Your mom states.

“Who doesn’t?” You retort, pushing in your chair before leaving your mom with the rest of the family and family friends.

You make your way into the living room where Tom was seated leaning against the couch on the floor with Sophie sitting beside him. Moana played on the screen and you just chuckled as you took your seat beside the small child.

“Moana, huh?” You ask.

“Yep!” Sophie chimes, her attention fully on the screen.

You look to Tom and he gives you the sweetest smile and you sees it. He really does look at you like you’re the sun and he’s just a planet lucky enough to orbit around you but she can feel yourself looking at him like he puts the stars in the sky.You’re still in the same galaxy, same solar system, you’re one of the same. You feel the same and there’s nothing that could change that.


	16. love me

As the party came to an end, your family and family friends had completely warmed up to Tom. It seemed the only person who still wasn’t a fan was your dad but you pushed it to the back of your head. The rest of the important people in your life liked him. They liked him and it seemed so easy.

It’s something special when your family genuinely likes someone. To say it warmed your heart, would be an understatement. And truthfully, it just made you fall harder for Tom. Everyone’s opinions, especially your mom’s, made you think he’s not such a flight risk anymore. He’s a safe-bet. Safe and stable, stable enough to fall head over heels for without a second thought. 

You got back to your apartment complex and you were going to go to yours but as you were starting to walk past Tom’s door, his hand grabbed your arm and a smirk crossed his face as he pulled you back. He pressed you against the door and brought his lips to yours, you’re caught off guard but quickly pick up and kiss him back.

“Care to come in?” Tom asks, pulling away, adornment in his eyes.

“Am I ever going to sleep in my own bed now?” You quip.

Tom shrugs one shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to.” His voice drops down to hushed whisper and your breath hitches. How can he make you feel like you’re on the verge of a panic attack and an adrenaline rush at the same time? “‘M kidding, darlin’.” Tom chuckles. Your cheeks burn as you glance down and brush your palms against Tom’s chest, smoothing down his coat. “Don’t have to if you don’t want.”

You look up and give him a cornered smile before pushing against him, sticking your hand out. Tom quirks a brow but all you do is glance to your hand and back to him. Tom laughs and digs out his key for you. You unlock his door and allow the both of you inside before handing him his key back.

“What’d you want to do?” You ask, innocence in your eyes.

“Usual?” Tom asks, hope in his eyes.

You shake your head and bite your lip. “Okay.”

“Should I get you pajamas?” Tom asks as you take your coat off.

“At this point I think you’re not going to have any left. I still have to return your other pair.” You giggle and Tom’s brows wiggle, a devilish smirk crossing his face. “What?” You quirk a brow.

“Nothing, keep it to myself.” Tom chuckles, his cheeks a soft shade of red as he moves to go down the hall.

“Tell me.” You say, following Tom to his room.

“Was gonna say that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” He turns to face you, the smirk on full display as he looks you up and down.

You sigh as you try to bite a smile back, getting where his mind was. “Good job on not blurting that out.”

“It was truly hard.” Tom quips, sarcasm in his voice.

You shake your head. “I’m sure it was.”

“It was.” Tom sticks out his bottom lip as if to be acting sad.

“You’re a dork.” You giggle as Tom’s arms come to wrap around you.

“Maybe.” Tom’s chest rumbles with a chuckle as your forehead presses to his chest.

“No, you are.” You look up, taking notice in the faint freckles that decorate his face like lost constellations in the midnight sky. “But you’re cute.” You say quietly.

Tom kisses your forehead softly. “Yeah, so are you.”  His voice is gentle and the smirk is gone as his hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up. Tom’s lips press softly against yours, but only for a few seconds.

“That’s addicting,” You state as you both pull away and Tom’s hands rest softly on your hips.

Tom’s eyes scan over your face and yes, he loves kissing you. He could kiss you all day long and his mouth would go numb and his cheeks would ache while his lips became swollen but that’d be more than okay. But, for the first time in a long time, it’s not about something physical. His heart just  _beats for you_  and while it’d crush him if this was your last kiss, if that meant he’d still be able to see you and hear your laugh, he’d never even think to complain. You’re in his blood.

“You’re addicting.” Tom whispers and moves his hands from your hips, one going to the small of your back to lead you into his room.

All you can do is shake your head. You can’t come up with anything to counter that with, you can’t even find yourself able to agree but maybe that’s because by the tone of his voice, you know he’s not just being cheeky. He’s not just saying something to challenge you. He’s being honest and if you were to turn around be honest with him, you’d be saying the exact same words.

Tom grabs the last pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt he knows you’re only going to be wearing under his hoodie and hands them to you, grabbing himself a pair of grey sweatpants. You roll your eyes but go to his bathroom to change. By the time you’re done, Tom is in the kitchen grabbing two water bottles for each of you. A soft but proud smile forms on your face with the sight of a water in Tom’s hand rather than a beer. Every time you’ve been in his apartment, he always reaches for a beer first. This was new, an improvement possibly.

The two of you make yourselves comfortable on the couch, Tom’s arm wrapped around you with the usual grey, fuzzy blanket covering you. You listen to Tom’s heart thump while he turns on where you left off at on Lost. One of your arms is draped over Tom’s torso and his hand is rested over your arm, his finger lightly grazing over your skin absentmindedly. You’re both engrossed in the show, but you’re also focused on the warmth and comfort of each other. Well, mostly.

Tom’s attention was also focused on the time. As episodes passed, he knew midnight was approaching and that’d be the tell-all. He’d have to ask and see exactly what you felt, what your intentions are. He won the bet. He proved himself and Tom is proud of himself but there’s this voice in the back of his head that’s questioning if it was worth it, if you’re just going to leave. You’re only around because of the bet, so why would you stay after it?

But, there’s another voice, a softer one Tom wants to listen to as he presses the softest kiss to the top of your head. It tells him that if you wanted to leave, you would have. You never would have flat out told him that you like him or even brought him to meet your family. His self-doubt gets the best of him but that little, softer voice, that’s the one he needs to listen to.

Tom checked his watch for what felt like the billionth time in the few hours you’d been back but, it was finally just after midnight. It’s been two weeks and one day. Tom’s mouth goes dry as he clears his throat, his heartbeat picking up with the smallest touch that the loud voice is right.

“Hey.” Tom says, tapping your arm.

“Hm?” You hum, half asleep.

“Been two weeks, bet’s over.” Tom whispers.

You look up to him, your eyes drenched with tiredness. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tom takes in a deep breath, clearly holding something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your eyes widening a little.

“Just, uh, ya know, well, bet was braggin’ rights and I won,” Tom pauses and scratches his nose. “Wanted to know what that means for this.” He says, his voice remaining still but you see through him, seeing the hope and anxiety in his eyes.

“Um, w-what do you want it to mean?” You stutter.

You assumed it wouldn’t matter. You didn’t care about the bet anymore, you only care about him. But, you have to question why he’d ask that kind of question. You don’t want this to change, in a good or a bad way. You don’t want a relationship or to just jump into anything but you don’t want to stop whatever it is you’re doing. You like this. It’s comfortable and safe.

Tom licks his bottom lip and shrugs. “Nothing changes, between us. We just, ya know, keep doing this.” The arm wrapped around your shoulders squeeze you gently.

A relieved smile comes to your face. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Tom’s eyes widen.

“Mhm.” You hum and kiss his lip softly. “I like this.”

“Thank fuck.” Tom chuckles, his chest finally expanding correctly with the relief of your words.

This is safe territory for him. Not a relationship but still having the girl as if it was. Relationships, labels, they make things official and that’s horrifying. He’s simply not ready to put that part of his heart out there yet even with the small voice telling him it’s okay. But then again, it probably helps you’re on the same page.

“I’m, uh, I’m not big on labeling things.” You admit. “They’re a lot so is this really okay?”

“More than okay.” Tom says quickly, his hand cupping your face with sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay.” You lean into his touch, your perfectly soft smile making Tom just melt into her.

_God, she’s perfect._

And just like that, the two of you kept yourr friendship without question. You spent more time at Tom’s apartment than you did your own and you can’t say you complained much, especially with your growing feelings for him. And Tom was so okay with this because, even though you didn’t know it, you were healing these parts of him he never thought he’d get back. You were fixing the scary and scarred parts of him. Memories etched the back of his head but you smiled and suddenly, he knows it’s okay again. They’re memories for a reason. It’s the past and the past doesn’t have to repeat itself, you prove that. And Tom feels like he’s soaring.

Tom feels like he’s soaring and you understand him better than anyone else does. Time goes by and you never once ask about a relationship even though you act like a couple. Harrison has started seriously seeing the girl from the coffee shop so you and Tom get invited to go on double dates. The two of you go and you always seem like you’re together, so much so, elderly couples have pointed out how you remind them of them when they were young. Waitresses have referred to you as a couple when bringing you food. You both always corrected them, restating you were just friends even if your fingers were intertwined because you  _were_  just friends. Tom wasn’t ready and you weren’t ready. Not then.

But, two months have gone by and there’s an ache in Tom’s bones when he hears you deny you being a relationship. He no longer corrects people and at first, he told himself it was because it was just easier but now he can’t deny the pull in his bones or the rush in his veins when you’re around. He can’t deny the soft sting every time you deny a relationship. You’ve put pieces back together and now Tom is ready in a way he’s not quite sure how to handle, so his mouth stays shut. It stays shut, even while you’re on this date with Harrison and his girlfriend and it kills him.

“So, what are you guys doing tonight?” Sebella, Harrison’s girlfriend, asks.

You looked to Tom as he sipped on his milkshake before looking back to Seb. “Not sure.” You shrug.

“You’ve still got writing you wanted to do, ya?” Tom quirks a brow, pulling away from his drink.

“Yeah, I do.” You nod in response. “Laptop’s at your place.” You giggle.

“Half of your shit is at my place at this point.” Tom retorts with a soft chuckle.

“You never complain.” You point out as you give Tom a soft smile. He returns it, his expression softening as he nods.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Here is your food.” A waitress says as she starts putting warm plates in front of the four of you. Tom moves your plate in front of you but only after stealing a few fries with a smirk, earning him a nudge. “You two are adorable.” The waitress says.

“Oh, no.” You shake your head. “We’re not together.”

Tom takes in a deep breath through his nose, straightening his posture as he looks away from you, glancing at Harrison who’s brows were furrowed by Tom’s sudden change, knowing how he feels.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys just seemed…like you were.” The waitress says, clearly embarrassed by her mistake.

“It’s okay.” You give her a reassuring smile before she dismisses herself from the table.

Tom cleared his throat as his hands went palm down on the table. “Be back.” He mumbles as he gets up, the rest of the table watching him walk through the crowded diner.

“I should go check on him.” You sigh, knowing Tom well enough to know something was off in the tone of his voice.

“I got him.” Harrison offers, already getting up.

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Harrison nods and sends a quick smile to Seb before leaving.

“What’s going on?” Seb asks bluntly, taking over Harrison’s milkshake.

“I have no idea.” You sigh. “He’s been weird lately, I guess.” Seb chuckles, sipping on the frozen drink. “What?” Your brows furrow, sensing Seb knows more than what she’s letting on.

“Nothing.” Seb shakes her head, before moving on. “So, why aren’t you together? It’s not like you guys don’t act like it, just the other day H and me walked in on a pretty heated make-out session.” Seb states.

Sebella is more than blunt. She says it how it is and doesn’t hold back at all but she doesn’t intend for it to be mean even though it sometimes comes off that way. She simply doesn’t see the point in holding back if she has something to say. Of course, she can sensor herself and knows when and where not to say something but it’s been a few months and you and her have become quite a bit acquainted. She doesn’t need to hold back.

“Uh, I-I don’t know.” You shrug, taking a sip of your water. “Not into the whole relationship thing.”

“Yeah, but why? There has to be a reason. Is it you or is it him? Do you not trust him or are you scared he’ll turn out like someone you don’t talk about?” You just stare at her for a few seconds before Seb gets the point. “Hey, I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer.”

“Has anything new really come from you and Harrison making things official?” Your voice contradicts Seb’s, your voice soft and drenched with curiosity.

Seb shrugs a shoulder and goes back to Harrison’s milkshake. “Alright, you got me.” Seb laughs. “We’ve gotten closer but yeah, maybe that would have happened anyway.”

“Exactly.” You say. “So, why does there have to be a label?” Your voice is quiet and Seb’s face drops, questioning what could possibly be going through your head.

“There doesn’t. I wasn’t trying to pry, really.”

“No, I know.” You nod quickly, brows furrowed. Your conversation comes to a halt as Tom and Harrison walk back in.

“That’s mine.” Harrison chuckles as he slides in next to Seb, taking his milkshake back.

“What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, babe.” Seb smirks making Harrison laugh and grab the extra straw for her.

“You okay?” You whisper to Tom as he slides in beside you.

“Fine.” He says and he smiles at you but it’s the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You glance to Harrison while Tom swirls his straw in his milkshake. Harrison just shakes his head, mouthing to leave it be.

The rest of the double date went by and it mostly went well expect, there was a tension between Tom and you. Normally when you’re out, Tom always has a hand in yours or a hand on your thigh, wrapped around your waist, something. It’s like he always has to be touching you but once he got back to the table, it seemed he had no interest in touching you. He didn’t make much conversation with you, instread, he kept up conversations with Harrison and Seb. You couldn’t help but notice and it hurt. It hurt for Tom to be acting this way. You missed his touch and the soft smiles, even though he was right next to you. But, maybe what hurt the most was the thought of the inevitable conversation you’d be having when you go back to your apartment complex.

The drive back was silent besides the music Tom had put on. The silence remained even through the elevator ride up to your floor. Tom unlocked the door and allowed himself in first, you following and shutting the door behind you. You stand in front of the door, watching Tom drop his keys on the table and running a hand through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, scared of his response.

“Nothing.” Tom mumbles, his back still to you as he goes to the fridge.

“Something’s wrong. You can tell me.” You press but keep your stance, assuming Tom is going to tell you to leave just by his distant behavior. He doesn’t want to be around you and all you need is the word.

“Not like it fuckin’ matters, ya know?” Tom grits his teeth, turning to face you, arms crossed over his chest. “Not together.”

“Is that why you’re angry?” Your brows furrow and all you can process is the look of annoyance in every line of Tom’s face.

You swore you were on the same page of keeping whatever you are, exactly that. Whatever you are. No label, just the two of you. Labels are complicated and scary. They make feelings real and you can’t just turn back when things get rough. You swore Tom was with you with on this.

“Of course!” Tom yells. “I fuckin’ get it. We’re not together but you don’t need to say it every damn time.”

“When someone assumes we are, I should let them think we are?” You challenge, trying to see where Tom was headed with this.

Tom scoffs, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. “Why aren’t we together, y/n?”

“I thought…I thought we were on the same page of just not labeling this.” Your eyes scan over Tom’s face as your voice is delicate and confused.

“Why?” Tom presses, taking a few steps forward but there’s darkness in his eyes with the question. “Why? Because it’s been months.”

“Why does it matter so much, Tom?” You ask as your heart beats in your chest and a lump forms in your throat.

“Are you that thick?” Tom shakes his head, taking a few more steps toward you. You remain silent, waiting for him to continue. “I’m in love with you.” Tom’s voice comes down to a whisper and his brows are knitted together. His voice is strained and his eyes are glossed over. Tom’s mouth is in a straight line while his forehead wrinkles and it’s almost like it physically pains him to say those words out loud and it scares the hell out of him.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.” You say, your voice just above a whisper as your heart stops dead in your chest.

Tom scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “Bet’s over, has been for months.”

“I still told you-”

“I don’t fuckin’ care!” Tom raises his voice and his arms outstretched with his words. “I don't’ fuckin’ care what you told me. You can’t-” Tom licks his lips and shakes his head, his voice coming back to a tlaking level. “You can’t just tell someone not to fall in love with you as if it’s some fucking choice like picking a damn film.”

“I-I just I told you not to…” Your voice come to a whine and tears threaten to brim before Tom cuts you off.

“I love you. I’m so in love with you, it fuckin’ hurts. Every damn day, I look at you and I’m in love with you and it fuckin’ hurts. I tried not to, I did, alright? But fuck.” Tom groans and his hands rub his face before he gestures one out. “I can’t fucking help it and it’s scaring the fuck out of me.”

Tom might be angry but he’s angry because of everything that’s happened to him. He’s angry that he swore he’d never put himself in a position like this again but it’s true what they say, no one chooses who they fall in love with. He tried and he did anyway and now there’s nothing he can do but try and get you to grasp how scared he is and how big this is for him to admit without having to tell you every detail of his life. You get him on levels no one else does. He doesn’t have to tell you things because you just understand and he’s praying to anything that you will get this. This one thing, you need to get because he’ll break again if he has to tell you why he’s terrified.

“You don’t have to love me even though I think you do. But for fuck’s sake, if you don’t and I’m wrong you have to tell me ‘cause I can’t fucking do this anymore if you don’t. I can’t keep my mouth shut and act like we’re friends and I can’t do this anymore! So, now or never. I love you.” Tom swallows a lump in his throat as his mouth presses into a worried line, waiting for a response, already regretting every word that’s left his mouth.

You’re just as afraid of that tiny four-letter word as Tom and for good reason. You can put on a brave face with everyone about everything and you do an excellent job of it, even around Tom, until now. You’re fucking scared because love is a dangerous play and you don’t know what to do. Can you handle it again? Go through that again? Can you really put Tom through that? Your heart aches at the thought of the pain either of you could go through but you’re looking at Tom’s big brown eyes that are silently begging you to say you love him, too. And your mind goes back to when he first admitted he liked you and his voice was a plea for you to like him back. And then, while you don’t know what is going on inside his head or what lead him to you, you get it. You understand the plea. And you’re so fucking in love with him that it hurts.

“Prove it.” You say, your eyes locked with Tom’s, sharing the same fearful stare.

“What?” Tom’s voice falls to a soft whisper, disbelief in the word.

“Y-you said that you love me and you think I love you, too. Prove it.” You’re nearly holding your breath with your words, knowing that there’s no coming back from this.

Only a few beats pass before Tom moves forward and collides his lips against yours, pushing you completely against his door. His hands cup your face and yours go to Tom’s shirt, tugging him flush against you and you can feel the lump building your throat, burning behind your eyes while your heart sings. Tom’s mouth moves in sync with yours and he loves you and the kiss is needy and nervous, scared of making the wrong move but it just gets more heated with every passing second.

You’re pulling apart, pushing away your fears and catching your breath but only for a second before your mouths collide again and Tom’s moving his hands to your hips, trying to somehow pull you closer to him. Your chests are heaving and your hands are snaking up just above Tom’s hips and under his shirt, feeling his warm skin against your cold hands. Tom lets out a soft moan with the touch. His hands move under the hem of your shirt, his hands grabbing your sides.

“Tom?” You pull in a breathy whisper. He eyes meet yours, lips swollen and glossy. Tom’s heart starts plummeting to the pit of his stomach as he waits for you to continue. You look like you’re on the verge of tears and you are but not because you’re sad or mad but because it’s a lot and he’s all you’ve ever wanted without ever knowing. He knew before you did. “It’s…” You take a deep breath, your mouth hanging slightly ajar. “It’s okay that I love you, too?” You ask.

Tom’s eyes are broken in a way you’ve never seen before but without hesitation, the words fall from his mouth. “ _Please_ , love me, too.” And his voice cracks with the plea.

“I love you so freaking much.” You admit and the softest smile comes to Tom’s lips before he attaches his mouth back to yours.

Tom’s arms wrap around your torso, picking you up and a squeal escapes your mouth as you pull away. You giggle as Tom carries you down the hallway, your hands going to the back of his neck and playing with the little hairs before kissing his cheek. His arms are warm and sturdy around you and, just like every other time, it’s the safest place in the world.

Tom drops you on the bed, hovering over you as his lips go back to yours. You tug at his tousled hair, granting you a slight moan. Tom’s hand go to your leg and around your thigh, pulling it up to get a better position, helping to move you both further into the middle of his bed. Tom bites your bottom lip, pulling away and you whimper, opening your eyes to be met with a smirk before Tom goes to your neck. You gasp from the open-mouthed kisses on your smooth skin, your hand instinctively pulling Tom’s head closer to your neck. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as he barely bits on the excess skin, lightly sucking.

Tom moves his hand to the hem of your shirt under your hoodie, his hand slowly moving under the fabric. Goosebumps rise to your skin and you feel like you’re on fire in the best way. His hand moves further up your torso until his fingers are just under the wire of your bra. They dance beneath the wire as if making sure it was okay, Tom still conscious of never overstepping. But, you move your hand from his neck and put it over his hand.

“I, uh,” You stutter, Tom moving from your neck to look at you with soft eyes. “I’ve never, ya know, done this.” You wince with the words and Tom’s eye widen in surprise.

“Oh.” He says. “We can stop-”

“No,” You say quickly and the corner of her mouth tugs into a smirk, your eyes glancing down Tom’s body and back to his eyes. “I just want you to know.”

Tom chuckles and nods, pressing his forehead against yours. “If you wanna stop, just tell me.” He whispers and places the most gentle kiss to your lips.

“Okay.” You whisper through a smile before your hands move to the hem of his t-shirt.

You pull it over his head, exposing him to the warm air of his bedroom. His chest and abs define with every breath he takes and while you’ve seen him shirtless before, this feels different. It is different because he’s not bloody or beaten or bruised and broken. He’s just there and he’s in love with you.

You bring your hand to the back of Tom’s neck and push up to attach her lips to the side of his neck, making sure to leave the same mark he left on you. Tom’s jaw falls open and his eyes close, his breath hitching as you leave a bright red mark for the world to see. You trail kisses up his neck and under his jawbone, back to his lips. Tom’s tongue slips inside your mouth and it’s just heavy breathing, trying to keep up with each other. Your hands go to Tom’s back, gripping at his muscle that’s flexed, Tom smiling into the kiss.

He sits up and moves his hands to the hem of your hoodie, gripping the hoodie and the shirt underneath, slowly tugging it up. You sit up and allow him to take it off, Tom discarding the clothing somewhere across the room. But, then he freezes. You lay back down and all Tom can do is stare at your chest. His heart stops and anxiety trickles through his bloodstream. Your cheeks heat up with his stare and you want to crawl under a rock, terrified he’d have this reaction.

“W-what is that?” Tom’s voice is weak and his brows furrow as one of his fingers comes to the middle of your chest and traces down a rough scar. The scar starts where your sternum starts and ends just below your the end of your sternum, splitting your entire chest in two.

“A scar.” You say, following Tom’s gaze to the faded skin, his finger now tapping it.

“What happened?” There’s panic in his voice and he hates how loud his heart is getting in his ears like it’s his owrst nightmare.

Your mouth is dry and you hate feeling so exposed. You should have thought about that little detail before when Tom said you could stop or even before he took your shirt off. It’s not you don’t see it every single day. You’ve had to look at that scar everyday for six years. You wear t-shirts that come close to your neck, making sure the scar can’t be seen. You stick to pull over hoodies because they cut closer to your neck than zip-ups do. You’ve taken every precaution you could, making sure Tom wouldn’t see it. But, in this moment of love and lust, you forgot. You forgot the broken bit of you and for the life of you, you hate that part of you is happy you did.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You say softly.

“Y/n…” Tom’s eyes say everything he’s scared to ask.

“Tom?” You move your hands to cup his face. His eyes lock with yours, they’re glossed and scared. “It’s fine.”

Tom leans into your touch. “Are  _you_?” He asks and he’s pleading again, begging for the truth but begging that the truth is that you’re really okay.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m okay, Tommy. I promise.” You kiss his cheek and rub your thumbs across his cheeks.

He bows his neck to kiss yours, his arms wrapping around you but in a swift and quick movement, Tom was turning you both over so you could straddle him. You yelped with the sudden movement but quickly recovered and Tom laid under you, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Please, tell me.” He says and how could she denied him an answer.

Your hands lay flat on his chest, the firmness of his muscle moving your hands up and down with every breath. “I had to go in for heart surgery when I was younger and they had to crack my chest because they couldn’t get my heart to start beating again.” You rub your thumbs across Tom’s skin while his thumbs rub over your exposed skin, his eyes looking between the scar and your eyes. “They fixed it and I’m fine.” You skimp on the details for Tom’s sake and the sake of your own sanity.

“You’re fine?” Tom checks again and you cock your head to left.

“Yeah,” You say quietly. “Why are you so worried?” Your voice is gentle while you move a hand to his hair and brush it out of his face.

He’s silent, just staring at you while he allows the relief of you being okay to settle in his bones.

“I can’t lose you.” Tom reaches for your hand that was playing with his hair and brought it to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to the skin.

“You’re not gonna lose me.”

“Promise?” Tom whispers.

“I promise.” You nod and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, Holland.” You lean up and smirk.

“Make it sound like a bad thing, love.” The nickname rings in your ears and your heart starts to flutter.

“You’re right.” You scrunch your nose. “ _I’m_  stuck with  _you_.” Your eyes widen with the remark and Tom narrows his eyes.

It’s heavy seeing a scar and seeing you dodge questions. But, you haven’t lied to Tom before so he’s going to take your word for this. You’re smirking above him and he’s in love with you. So, he shakes his head and pushes the heavy topic away, locking it away in a part of his head to bring up at another time when maybe you’re more comfortable talking about it.

“Damn right.” He licks his lips and wraps his arms around your torso sitting up and attaching his lips to your collarbone. Your hands go to his back, nails just brushing his skin as you close your eyes. “Somethin’ tells me ya don’t mind.” He pulls away and there’s a smirk playing at his lips.

“No.” You shake your head and you look at him like he holds every single star in the sky. “I don’t.” You kiss Tom’s forehead before pushing him back onto the bed. “So, I think we were in the middle of something.” A teasing smirk crosses your face and Tom bites his lip, wiggling his brows as one hand comes up and undoes her bra in a split second. “Okay.” You say flatly, unimpressed.

-

“We were in the middle of something.” Tom quips but he has a proud smirk.

“You think you’re so good, huh?”

“You’re not complaining.” Tom chuckles as you finish taking your bra off.

“Okay.” You say softly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Tom’s lips.

Tom pushes up and deepens the kiss. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast, kneading it while his thumb brushes over your nipple. You gasp softly into Tom’s mouth with the movement. Tom moves his other hand to your other breast and follows the same movements causing a rush to run through you and your heart to beat as if it were on fire.

Your breathing gets heavier and you guide your hands to the button of Tom’s jeans, feeling him growing hard under you. You kneel just above him and work on the button of his jeans as your kissing grows sloppy and inconsistent, your minds more focused on your hands.

You get the button undone, the zipper following. You tug at his jeans and Tom bucks his hips up to help you get his jeans down. You break the kiss first, you sliding down his body and pulling his boxer briefs down with his jeans. Tom watches you with a heaving chest, his hands desperate to get to back to you.

“There’s no sexy way to take pants off.” You state, feeling under pressure with him staring at you.

“Pretty sexy when you do it.” Tom licks his lips as he pulls you back to him.

You shake your head as you lock your lips with his. Your dominant hand trails down Tom’s smooth skin until your fingers just graze his throbbing dick. Tom’s mouth fumbles against yours with the soft contact. A smile forms on your face with his reaction. You take that as a cue to wrap your hand around him and start pumping him.

“Christ.” Tom grunts into your mouth.

You giggle in response. “Is it okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Tom breaths, trying to control his voice.

Tom goes to focus his attention on the button of your jeans, easily getting them undone. He chooses that time to flip you back over, hitting his head against yours in the process. You both laugh in response as Tom rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“Ow.” You laugh, moving your hand to his bicep.

“‘M sorry, love. You okay?” He asks, picking his head but he’s trying to suppress a laugh.

“Nope. I’m hurt, now.” You say sarcastically, sticking out your bottom lip.

“Poor you.” Tom mocks, knocking his forehead against yours softly.

“Meany!” You stick your tongue out and Tom nearly collapses onto you in a fit of laughter.

“God, I love you.” He says as if it’s a reflex and the second it leaves his mouth, his heart stops but then his head comes up and you love him too. Your eyes are bright and happy and you love him, too.

“I love you, too.” You grin and you swear it’s like you jumped out of a plane for the first time and your parachute deployed, helping you land safely, It’s such a dangerous adrenaline rush but he’s there and he’s catching you and you’re catching him and it’s like fucking magic.

Tom attaches his lips back to yours and his hands go back to working on taking your jeans and underwear off. You lift your butt as Tom starts tugging the fabric away, his lips detaching from yours to remove the clothing. Heat rushes to your face as Tom pauses for a few beats, taking you in and you feel self-conscious, remembering the amount of times you’ve been woken up because of him having sex with other women. And you have to question if you’re what he expected or if you’re good enough but just as quick as the thoughts enter your head, they disappear when Tom kisses his way up your thighs, avoiding her core, and up your stomach.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” Tom says, a delicate kiss pressed to your lips.

“Really?” You ask, your voice showing your disbelief.

“Of course.” Tom says, no hesitation.

“Thank you.” You say softly, your fingers coming up to ghost over his shoulders.’

Tom’s eyes are half-lidded but soft and filled with absolute and utter adornment. His lips move from her mouth to your jaw and back to your neck, surely to make another mark. Tom slides his right hand down your side and moves to your center. His fingers tease your slit, your mouth opening in response, your hands gripping Tom’s shoulders in anticipation. Tom doesn’t let you wait too long before he’s working your core and slide a finger inside. You gasp and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders.

“Okay?” Tom asks, his hand slowly pumping in and out of you.

“Uh-huh.” You manage to get out, a rush forming in the pit of your stomach. “Keep going.” You mumble as you slide your hand back to his dick, pumping him in sync with his hand.

Tom lets out a breath with the contact, dipping his head slightly, the cold metal of his necklace connecting with your chest. Your arousal builds with every movement Tom makes causing him to insert a second finger. You grip on him rightens just for a split second as you let out a soft moan. Tom grins while moving to kiss along your jaw.

“Still good?” He asks between kisses.

“Mhm.” You hum weakly. “Just…don’t stop.” You get the words out shyly and Tom nods, his heart jumping into his throat, happy you want him to keep going.

“Okay,” He whispers huskily into your ear before moving his thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles.

You buck your hips up with the new wave of pleasure that flows through you. Your breathing hitches and you whine out Tom’s name. Tom’s confidence builds with your moans and he goes back your mouth, the kissing deep at first but soon turns sloppy as you pump him harder an faster. There’s a coil building in the pit of your stomach as you grind your hips up to meet Tom’s movements.

“Tom..” You moan softly into his mouth. The look of lust and need tell him all he needs to know as he pulls his hand away making you whimper in response.

Tom presses a kiss to your nose. “Reach behind you in that drawer.” Tom says soft, jerking his head to his nightstand before he places a few kisses to your collarbones.

You open the drawer and grab a little square package. You hand it to Tom and he tears it open with his teeth. You chuckle and shake your head.

“What?” Tom asks.

“I didn’t think people really opened a condom with their teeth.”

“Easier.” Tom shrugs one shoulder, a sheepish smile on his face. Tom adjusts himself as he rolls the condom onto himself, you watching his movements carefully, taking a mental note for future reference. “You sure you want to? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Tom says and the smile is gone, showing his sincerity and wanting to make sure you know there’s no pressure.

“I’m sure.” You smile wide before Tom lines himself up with her center. “But wait.” You say and Tom freezes, his arms holding him, tense but all you do is reach up to take his necklace off. It’s something he wears all the time and you don’t want it to get tangled. You reach behind you and rest on top of his nightstand.

Tom blushes but smiles, falling harder for you with the simple gesture, knowing it means something to him. “Thanks.” You nod in response, a shy smile on your face. “If it hurts, lemme know, ya?” Tom asks.

“Okay.” You say, your hands hold the sides of Tom’s back to brace yourself.

Tom slowly pushes inside you, careful not to go too fast. You squeeze Tom’s side, your core trying to adjust to him. Tom grunts when he feels himself bottom out and his head bows into your shoulder for a few seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling.

“Still good?” He asks, looking back to you.

“Good.” You say, one hand rubbing up his back, feeling the muscles that were sticking out.

“Okay.” Tom brushes his nose against yours.

Tom starts thrusting his hips against yours and the room is soon filled with moans and grunts from the both of you. And this is unlike any sex Tom has had before. It’s a cliche, really, that sex is different with someone you really love but this wasn’t that. Yes, Tom loves you and he’d do anything in the world for you but you’re the first one in a long time. You’re the one who loves him through the bad, the good, and the ugly. You’ve seen him broken, beaten, and bruised and still  _chose_  to stay.

Tom’s right. People don’t choose who they fall in love with but people choose if they stay and you might be terrified, just as terrified of love as Tom is but you stayed. You stayed and cared for him and loved him when other people wouldn’t. You proved to him that he’s not hard to love. He’s worth more than what other people did. The guilt he feels, it’s okay because everyone carries guilt and it doesn’t matter. You love him anyway. You fell in love with him at his worst and you’re going to love him through his best.

This isn’t just a one night stand, this is something he wants for the rest of his life. Because it’s heated and needy and the window of Tom’s room might as well be steamed but you’re knocking teeth and you’re laughing. You’re nipping at each other’s skin and claiming each other as the other’s. There’s whispered ‘i love you’s’ and whispered compliments. His forehead is pressed against yours, sweaty and warm but your both breathing into each other’s mouths and it’s perfect. It’s not just sex. It’s never going to be just sex. Because he loves you and you love him.

-

You both finish nearly at the same time, both of you sweaty and breathless messes with lopsided smiles but it’s okay and it’s perfect. The two of you only waited in a bed a few minutes before cleaning yourselves up but you didn’t put on your clothes after. Tom grabbed you a pair of his pajama pants that you definitely borrowed before and a t-shirt. You both get comfortable in Tom’s bed after you’re both dressed.

“So,” Tom starts, him on his side facing you while you laid on one of his arms, facing him. “Was it okay?” There’s no arrogance in his voice this time, just curiosity and hope.

“Yeah, you were great.” You giggle, feeling heat come to your cheeks, as your fingers softly fiddle with the silver necklace he put back on, the cold metal contrasting the warmth of his bare chest when your fingers brush over his skin.

“So, you feel alright?” Tom questions, his free hand rubbing the scar that peaks out of the top of the shirt he’d given you.

“Yes.” You laugh, turning your attention to his eyes. They’re consumed in softness. It’s as if every soft gold speck that complimented the dark brown of his eyes shined brighter than they had before, like the north star waiting to lead you to Neverland, to your happily ever after home, with him never leaving you for even a second.

Tom lets out a sigh of relief, shaking his head into your shoulder. “Good.”

“Was I okay?” You ask softly.

Tom looks up and gently places a hand on your cheek. “Perfect.” Tom says, kissing your nose softly.


	17. nightmares

~

Sirens. They’re so loud and obnoxious. Why do they have to be so loud? And bright? Tom peaks his eyes open while keeping his head on the steering wheel. He’s coming to just to be met with bright red and blue lights, paramedics, police officers, and firefighters all talking and trying to get him to answer them.

He’s stuck. His leg. It’s jammed. He was hit. Flashes come back quickly. One minute he’s driving and talking to Harrison, having a good time like they usually do and the next, a car comes out of nowhere and hits on Harrison’s side. One minute they’re laughing and the next, everything is just black.

Tom picks his head up from the steering wheel, blood dripping down the front of his face. His neck aches as he tries to look around, paramedics telling him to stay still as they reach in and grab his head to stabilize him. That’s when he sees the horror.

_Harrison._

Harrison was sprawled out on the hood of the car, right through the windshield. Glass was shattered all around him and blood was spilling from Harrison’s mouth while his eyes were open, staring directly at Tom.

“Harrison!” Tom scream out. “Harrison! Answer me!” Tom screams, trying to reach forward but the paramedics are restraining him, telling him to stay still. “No! No! No!” Tom cries, fighting them as much as he can. The jaws of life start to echo in Tom’s ears. “No!” He whines. “Harrison! Answer me damn it!” Tom pushes the paramedics trying to get them off of him anything as tears stream down his face. “Stop fuckin’ around! It’s not a fuckin’ joke!” Tom leans forward, grasping for Harrison before being pulled back, his head hitting the seat.

“Cover the body!” One of the paramedics yells as they try to keep Tom steady, careful not to injure his neck and allow the firefighters to free him from the car.

“No! He’s just dickin’ around!” Tom screams, the broken cry burning his throat. “C’mon, Haz, tell them!” Tom’s chin wrinkles and his lip quivers as Harrison’s bright blue eyes stare lifelessly at him. A paramedic comes over and covers Harrison’s body with a blanket, giving Tom a sad look and shake of the head. “ ** _NO! STOP HE’S NOT DEAD!_** ” A wail escapes Tom’s lips. “No, no, no, no, no.” Tom sobs and tears flow freely, the taste of iron and salt filling Tom’s mouth. “He can’t be dead,  _no_.” Tom whines, begging for Harrison to wake up.  _Something._

_~  
_ _-_

* * *

* * *

“Tom.” Your voice was flat, etched in sleep as you faced him. “Ow.” You mumbled as you opened her eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

Tom stirred in his sleep, kicking you awake. His brows are knitted together, his fist clutching the comforter. His mouth was barely moving as if to be mumbling. You watched in confusion for a few seconds until you started fully waking up, realizing Tom was in the middle of a nightmare. You lightly tapped his bare shoulder and a whimper fell from his mouth.

“Tom, wake up.” You sit up and shake him harder and he whines out, almost a cry leaving his throat. “Hey, come on, wake up.” You continue to shake him. “Tommy.”

Finally, it rings it his ears. Tom shoots up, gasping for air as a few tears slip. He’s quick to wipe them away, his eyes landing on you. Your heart beats fast in your chest, brows pulled together in worry with Tom’s pain expression.

“I-I’m sorry. You can back to sleep.” Tom mumbles, his voice groggy and sleep deprived. His hands shake as he rubs them over his face and through his hair.

“You were having a nightmare.” You whisper and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Tom swallows hard, looking back to you. His eyes moving from your eyes to the scar just peaking out of his t-shirt. “I, uh, I have to…what time is it?” Tom asks, sounding more disoriented than tired.

You reach for your phone from the nightstand and checks the time. “After four, Tom, what-what’s going on?”

“I have to call Harrison.” Tom mumbles, his eyes distant as if he were in some type of trance, maybe still asleep.

“Why?” You ask, confusion now filling your voice.

“Do you know where my phone is?” Tom asks, tossing the blanket away from him as he gets out of bed.

“Here.” You hand your phone over, watching him carefully. “Please, talk to me.”

Tom shakes his head. “I-I-” A lump forms in his throat and his eyes start to burn. “I can’t. Not right now. Just, wait here.”

Tom goes to leave the bedroom and normally, you would allow him to leave no questions. You believe in giving people space, allowing them to handle something and then come back when they’re ready but not this time. It’s different because you’ve spent the night with him countless times before and he’s never had a nightmare but now he suddenly has one. And it’s bad. To wake up and immediately have tears, gasping for air, it’s bad. You won’t let him be alone.

“Please, go back to bed.” Tom groans as he hears you following him down the hall.

“No.” You say softly, keeping up with Tom.

He turns around on his heels, you nearly running into him. “Go!” Tom yells, caching you off guard. “Just, leave me the fuck alone right now.”

“No.” You say again, unmoved by Tom’s yelling. He’s upset and he doesn’t mean it. Harrison already told you that months ago. When he gets mad, he snaps and he doesn’t mean what he says. “You had a nightmare and you can call Harrison all you want but I’m not gonna leave you out here. I’m gonna make you some tea and you don’t have to talk about it. But you’re  _not_ gonna be _alone_.” You shrug, your eyes searching Tom’s face for any clue as to how he might be feeling.

“Why?” His voice cracks asking the question.

“Because I love you.” You says as if it’s second nature.

Tom licks his lips and nods. “Okay.” He whispers and turns back around.

“Tom?” You ask as you both enter the kitchen. Tom looks at you, eyes slightly pink and his brows still pulled together. “You can talk to me, okay?”

Tom swallows a hard lump, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I know.” He says.

“Okay.” You reach out to him and pull him into a hug, the weight of the world seemed to be lifted off Tom’s shoulders. He exhales, really exhales and relaxes into your touch.

“I love you.” Tom mumbles, the words almost incoherent with the soft whisper.

“I love you, too.” You look up and press a kiss to his cheek. “Are you sure you want to call Harrison, it’s late.”

Sadness drenched Tom’s eyes, knowing he should tell you. He should talk to you and tell you what’s happened. What his dream was, everything. But, it’s four in the morning and he just told you he loves you. He just let someone in for the first time in a long time. You’re soft and gentle. You’re happy and care for him, you love him for who he is now. What happens if he tells you and he scares you off? He can’t do that.

“I have to.” Tom says before pulling away. He goes to walk towards the window and you can’t help but feel cold without him with you.

“You can talk in your room. I know you don’t like being out there much.” You say and Tom looks to you and back to the window,

“It’s fine.” Tom says before opening the window and making his way to the fire escape, shutting the window once he’s outside.

You could hear him if he goes into his room. He doesn’t want you to hear him and he doesn’t want to go into the hallway. This was easier. He doesn’t like it but it’s easier and he loves you more than anything for being there, for not letting him just walk off. No one ever does that. No one besides Harrison.

“Tom?” Harrison groans through the phone. “Fuck time is it?”

“After four.” Tom whispers.

“Sorry, love, be back.” Tom hears Harrison whisper before there’s shuffling on the end of the phone. “Seb’s here, what’s wrong?” Harrison asks as he exits his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tom’s quiet, shame filling his viens. “Nightmare, mate?”

“Yeah.” Tom says, hanging his head and looking down to the alley beneath him.

“Thought they stopped.” Harrison states, his voice losing the sleep and gaining worry.

“They did.” Tom nearly whines. “But…I dunno, y/n woke me up.”

“Which one was it?” Harrison takes a seat in his living room, expecting to be on the phone with Tom for a while.

“You.” Tom sniffles.

“Well, I’m fine clearly. Tired as fuck but fine.” Harrison states. “Mate, I know you don’t want to but you gotta talk to someone about this.”

“No.” Tom says, his voice just above a whisper. “Don’t need to.”

“You woke me up at four in the damn morning. How many times did I have to wake you up over the past three years for these?”

Tom shakes his head. “They stopped, they did, Haz.” Tom argues. “I swear they did.”

“I know.” Harrison says. “So, what caused it?”

Tom scratches the back of his neck, knowing what triggered the nightmare but there’s a battle within himself. You never directly stated not to tell anyone about your scar but you were vague. You did your best to hide it. You don’t parade it around. You hide it and there’s a reason, there has to be a reason. Tom knows that better than anyone. So, it’s not his story to tell but now it’s effecting him. It’s affecting him because he’s scared that whatever happened to you will happen again or there’s more to the story. Something and he can’t lose you. He just can’t. But how he is supposed to tell Harrison that without actually telling him?

“Told her I loved her.” Tom bites his lip and his hand grabs the cold metal of the fire escape.

“Did you?” Harrison asks, his voice picking up with hope.

“Yeah.” Tom nods and his knuckles are turning white.

“She say it back?”

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Tom nods and a smile starts to tug at his lip, his heart not feeling so heavy.

“Alright, well that’s good. I’m happy for ya. What else?” Harrison asks.

Tom sighs. “Can’t say.” He mumbles and clenches his jaw.

Harrison’s eyes widen in confusion. “Something happen?”

“No, no, no,” Tom says quickly. “It’s just…her thing.”

“Okay.” Harrison says, understanding. “Did you tell her?”

“Fuck no.” Tom’s tone changes to a defensive one.

“Had to ask.” Harrison says. “You’d feel better if you did. I’m alright. You don’t need to be on the phone with me when you have her. I’ll be here if you need me, but you have her, too.” Harrison’s voice shows his reasoning.

“I know.” Tom says. “I just don’t want to ruin her.” Tom’s words are strained and frustrated.

“Mate, she fell for you when you were out fucking every girl with two fucking legs and a half decent face, treating everyone around you like shit. You’re not gonna ruin her.”

Tom sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Nah, can’t.”

Harrison shakes his head in disappointment. “Alright, won’t force you.”

“Thanks.”

“You okay, now?” Harrison asks. “How bad was it?”

“Same old.” Tom sniffles again. “Hanging out the windshield.”

“Fucking hell.” Harrison groans, the idea of that image always makes his skin crawl. Harrison can’t stand to even fathom the horror that must go through Tom’s head with the thought. “Ya know, it’s a good thing y/n was there to wake you up.”

“Yeah, yeah, it is.” Tom agrees.

You tap on the window and hold up a red and gold mug, a gentle smile on your lips. Tom singles for you to open the window. You hand him the warm mug but don’t go onto the fire escape with him.

“Thank you.” He says and gives you a faint smile.

“I’ll be in here when you’re ready. Tell Harrison I said hi.” You give him a sad smile before closing the window and going back inside.

“Tell her.” Harrison says, overhearing you talk to Tom.

“No.” Tom says, sipping from his hot mug, nearly burning his mouth.

“Then tell me what the bloody hell caused your nightmare.” Harrison demands. Harrison is more worried for whatever Tom isn’t telling than he is annoyed. He just wants to make sure Tom is really okay.

Tom stares at the steamy liquid in the mug, sadness fully consuming him. He can’t tell you. You’ll think he can’t handle things which, Tom can’t help but realize that this probably doesn’t look much better. He’s in his twenties and he’s sitting on his fire escape at four in the damn morning on the phone with his best friend because of a nightmare. What is he? Ten? He probably looks like some broken child who can’t handle himself.

A voice in the back of his head gnaws at him, regretting everything. He shouldn’t have called Harrison. He should have brushed it off. It’s a normal dream to have. People do have nightmares. Why did he do this?

“Tom?” Harrison’s voice fills with more worry with Tom’s silence.

“I fucked up again.” Tom groans and tilts his head back.

“What’d you do?”

“She’s gonna think I’m pathetic, ringing you like this.”

Harrison sighs and shakes his head. “Trust me, she won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“She said something to me not long ago. She’ll want you to tell her and talk to her but for whatever reason, she gets it. Let her get it, man. Stop beating yourself up about it and wallowing in your own self-pity. Anyone who’d ever think this is pathetic, isn’t worth your fucking time anyway but y/n, she doesn’t think that. Now, get off your damn fire escape and talk to her. About anything. I’m okay. You’re fine.” Harrison keeps his voice level but makes it stern enough to try and get through Tom’s head.

Tom scratches his nose with his shoulder. “What’d she say?”

“Said she had a friend and they were as close as us. So, she gets it.”

“I, I didn’t know that.” Tom’s brows furrow.

“Yeah, she just mentioned it when we went bowling a few weeks ago with Seb.” Harrison takes in a deep breath and shrugs. “She said she didn’t get to properly thank me for helping you and letting her help you. Said she knows what it’s like. Dunno what she meant but, that’s it.”

Tom stays silent, trying to piece together what would have caused you to tell Harison anything. For once, he’s not actually jealous that you would thank him or even mention something Tom doesn’t know about. He’s usually the jealous type but not this time. Maybe it’s because he’s tired or maybe it’s because he’s holding a hot cup of tea you didn’t have to make and you’re sitting on his couch with your laptop open, waiting for him. Whatever it is, he’s not jealous just confused. He hasn’t slipped until now. He’s been fine so what could have prompted you to mention anything to Harrison?

“Alright, mate?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” Tom says and takes a small sip from his tea. “I’m gonna head in, thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.” Harrison nods on the other end. “Text me when you wake up, ya?”

“Yeah, will do.” Tom agrees before saying his goodbye and hanging up.

Tom climbs in through the window, nearly spilling his tea in the process. His eyes are still slightly burning and a soft hue of pink covers the whites. His nose is a little red from the crisp weather of the new spring but that doesn’t stop you from noticing the distant expression, filled with confusion and pain when he walks into the living room.

“You okay, Tommy?” You ask, shutting your laptop as Tom comes to sit next to you.

He takes in a deep breath. “Sometimes, I get these nightmares,” He starts and you turn your sole attention to him, relieved and scared that he’s going to open up about something. “I dunno, they happen and they’re all the same but sometimes they’re different, ya know? Like some stuff is different.” You nod, watching Tom fiddle with the mug as he rolls his shoulders back. “I was driving and a car or something fuckin’ hit us. Just Harrison and me and he died, I guess. I dunno…it just,” Tom licks his lips, shame etched in his words. “Freaks me out.”

You move closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Okay.”

He looks at you, touches of disbelief behind the shame. “Okay?”

You shrug, releasing him from your grasp. “People have nightmares and one where your best friend dies and you’re driving, that’s a normal thing to be freaked out about. If it were me, I’d probably want to call just to make sure.”

Tom just stares at you for a few seconds. Just when he thinks he couldn’t possibly fall more in love with you, you pull this. Everyone has flaws of course and he could write a three-page essay on yours as you could probably write three novels on his, but with those flaws, you’re still perfect to him. And you just keep proving that you’re perfect,  _perfect for him_.

“What?” You ask.

“Just, I really love you.” Tom purses his lips and the sadness seems to slowly fade from his tired eyes.

“Yeah, I love you, too. Are you okay, now?” You cock your head to the left slightly.

“Think so, yeah.” Tom nods and takes another drink from his warm mug. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

You shake your head. “If you’re awake, I’m awake.”

Tom chuckles. “Alright.”

He turns on the TV and you lean into his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. You forget about what you were writing, your focus now on just being with Tom, him keeping you warm and focusing on his breathing. Everyone has nightmares, that’s a normal thing and it’s perfectly normal for him to freak out. However, you’ll never tell him, but it does kind of bother you that he’d freak out that bad and he didn’t tell you that this wasn’t something new. He’d had them before. Clearly, they’d stopped otherwise he would have had one at some point while you were over but nothing. He always slept soundly so, you remember reading about triggers. Things that can cause nightmares. You can’t help but find it horribly ironic that Tom see your scar and he’s having a nightmare of his best friend dying. Maybe you were the trigger.

Hours pass and you wake up to your alarm, Tom asleep on your chest with his arm wrapped around your waist. You brush a hand through his hair, softly waking him up. He lets out a groan and shakes his head.

“Five more minutes.” Tom mumbles.

Your chest rumbles beneath Tom as you laugh. “You have work.” You say.

Tom picks his head up, looking to you and sighs. “Yeah.”

“Mhm.” You nod. “You should get ready because you’re gonna be late.”

“Fuck.” He rolls his eyes and stretches. He presses a quick kiss to your lips and sits up. “Going together, today?” Tom asks, realizing you said  _he_ had work, not the both of you.

“I’ve got a doctor’s appointment so I’ll be late which, actually, I really need to get up and get ready for.”

“Okay.” Tom says. “Everything okay?” He checks, his eyes darting your chest and back to your face.

“Yep, just a check-up.” You nod. “You need insurance. People need to go to the doctor for regular physicals, ya know?” You joke.

“Yeah, yeah, go when I have to.” Tom smirks with a soft laugh.

You shake your head. “Go, get ready and I’ll see there.”

Tom nods and pulls you in for another kiss before getting up. “Aye, thanks, for last night and everything.” Tom’s cheeks turn red with his thanks, his hand running through his bed head, touches of embarrassment still lingering.

“Of course.” You smile sweetly before Tom heads to his room.

You take a deep breath and gather your things quickly, making your way to your own apartment. You worry for Tom and it’s still eating at you that something triggered his nightmare and it could have been you. The last thing you want to do is make whatever he went through worse. You don’t want to bring up past trauma, even though it might be nothing. The truth is that you still don’t know. He won’t talk about it. The only thing you do know is that there’s more to everything Tom does and the way he is and something made him have that nightmare. How can you live with yourself if you’re that reason? And what are you supposed to do if Tom won’t tell you?

Tom gets ready and makes his way to the shop. Frankie is working when Tom gets there. With the new spring weather, Frankie works more often, the store being busier this time of year. Frankie greets Tom as Tom goes to clock in. There’s still sleep pulling at Tom’s bones and touches of guilt, but he can push that away because you stayed. So, he puts on a genuine smile when greeting your dad, who has yet to completely warm up to him. But, he gives Tom a smile anyway before going back to looking over payroll but his attention snaps back to Tom.

“For the sake of your own health, that hickey better not be from my daughter.” Your dad’s voice is threatening and Tom’s eyes widen. “And for the sake of your health, that better mean you and her cut off your ties and you didn’t break her heart.”

“Uh,” Tom’s mouth goes dry as he tries to find the right words. “Well, uh, a-about…that, uh,” Tom stutters. “If I told you I burned myself, would that be believable?” There’s no sarcasm in his voice, just touches of hope and maybe your dad will just let him go.

Your dad has to choke down a laugh as he holds the bridge of his nose, remember saying that exact thing when he was confronted by your mom’s dad for the first time.

“No, it’s not. That’s a terrible excuse.” He shakes his head.

“Didn’t think so.” Tom’s face beats red as he finishes clocking in.

Your dad shakes his head. “You can at least do a better job of trying to hide it next time.” Tom’s head perks up with the words ‘next time’ but he doesn’t get a chance to question it before your dad continues. “Now, just go help Frankie up front.”

“Yes, sir.” Tom suppresses a soft smile as he heads to the front of the store.

Tom puts on the usual apron and starts working with Frankie. The two conversate while restocking fresh apples. Frankie was quick to take to Tom. They’re quite a bit different but the two just seemed to click. Then again Frankie was more like a brother-figure you never really had so he wanted to like Tom. If you like Tom, there has to be a reason.

A few hours pass and your dad was coming from the backroom, whispering something to Frankie before leaving. Tom, who was sweeping the back of the store, shrugging it off. He kept up his cleaning until the door chimed with your dad’s exit.

“Everything alright?” Tom asks.

“Yeah, he just needs us to close to tonight.”

Tom stops his movements, his heart stopping. “Why?” He’s never closed with Frankie before. The only time Frankie ever closes is on Wednesdays when Tom isn’t there to help close.

“I don’t know, dude.” Frankie shrugs and opens a roll of quarters to put in the register.

“Where’s y/n?” Tom asks, him leaning on the broom.

“Didn’t she have a doctor’s appointment or something?” Frankie raises a brow.

“Shouldn’t she be here, said she was comin’ in after.” Tom tries to reason.

“Maybe she changed her mind,” Frankie shrugs. “Don’t stress over it.” Frankie shakes his head and goes back to putting the quarters in the register.

Tom watches Frankie for a few seconds before going back to work. Tom is paranoid. Of course he’s paranoid. How could he not be? He finally put his heart back on the line. The last thing he needs is for it to be ripped out of his chest again. If he slips again, he’ll lose his faith in everything. So, he’s worried. He’s worried that there’s something wrong and that’s why your dad left and is allowing him and Frankie to close. He’s going to be paranoid until he can get ahold of you.

On his break, Tom calls you but your phone goes to voicemail and Tom can’t help the slight panic that starts to trickle in his veins as he goes to leave a message.

“Aye, love, uh, just callin’ to make sure you’re alright. Call me.” Tom ends the call and shakes his head.

He tries to push you not answering his call into the back of his head through the rest of his break and the rest of his day. He tells himself over and over again that it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to answer his calls. It happens. He misses calls all the time and so does Harrison. It’s a perfectly normal thing but, there’s just something eating at his stomach.

Tom goes home after work, skipping the normal gym routine with you not being around. But, he goes to your door before his. He knocks a few times and waits but nothing. You don’t answer and there’s no telling if you’re even home since you’ve never been one to have your TV or music loud. All Tom can do now is wait for you to call him or text, maybe stop by, something.

But you don’t.

The night goes by and then the next morning and still nothing. Tom tries calling again, texting but there’s just nothing. He confides in Harrison and Harrison calls you for Tom, hoping that if Tom did something to freak you out, maybe you’d tell him. But, all Harrison got was your voicemail. So, being the friend Harrison is, he went over to Tom’s when the two got off work. Harrison tried to explain to Tom that it was only a day and maybe something just came up and it helped. It helped for the rest of the night because Harrison’s right and Tom knows that. Things come up and sometimes people need a day or two to just be by themselves.

So, the next day comes around and there’s no sign of you at work yet again. Your dad is there though which tells Tom that you’re okay. If you weren’t okay, your dad wouldn’t be working. There’s a soft touch of relief with the sight of your dad and he doesn’t seem distraught which is an even better sign. But, then there’s the thought that if you’re fine, why won’t you call him back?

“Mr. y/l/n.” Tom clears his throat as he approaches him. “Is y/n okay?” He asks hesitantly.

“She’s fine.” He states simply before shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I haven’t been very nice to you but she did ask me to relay a message. This is from her, not me. She wants you to stop calling her.”

Tom’s face drops and his blood runs cold. “W-what?” He asks, brows furrowed and a lump starts forming in his throat.  _You’re just like everyone else._

“That’s what she asked me to tell. She didn’t give me a reason. That’s it. So, stop calling her.” Your dad says before he lifts a box of red roses and walks away.

Tom stands there, just stands there staring blankly. What did he do? What the hell could he have done to deserve this? He kept his secrets. He kept the dark and twisted to himself. He tried to protect you so you wouldn’t run away but then you did anyway. Tom changed for you. You made him better but you just left him high and dry without a single word. How can someone do that to anyone? It’s just not fair.

“You okay, dude?” Frankie asks, coming up from behind Tom.

Tom swallows the lump in his throat and scratches his nose. “Yeah, fine.” He mumbles and walks to the backroom to clock.

_Never again._

The day went by in a blur for Tom and the second he was on his break, he was texting Harrison. If Harrison could have jumped through the phone to talk Tom down, he would have but he also would have gone wherever you are, ready to yell at you. He thought you were a good one, too. But, now his best friend is on the phone, choking on his words, trying to figure out how he managed to fuck up again. Harrison is beyond pissed so, he puts his life on hold to try and be there for Tom.

Days went by and it’s just Tom and Harrison, bars, clubs, drinking all after beating their fists into punching bags. That’s what they do. Harrison doesn’t really drink, he’s mostly watching Tom and allowing his friend to freak out for a few days. If it weren’t for the shit Tom has already been through, Harrison would be intervening, telling Tom it’s not a big deal. But, Tom’s been through his shit and he needs a week before Harrison starts being the voice of reason again. Not to mention, Harrison doesn’t  _know what else to do_  for Tom because all Tom keeps saying is that you used him. What for is beyond either of them but that’s what Tom is thinking. You used him, maybe just to make yourself feel good for putting together a broken man. Which, clearly you didn’t do such a good job since he came undone too easily. Regardless, if you cared, you wouldn’t have up and left without an explanation. You wouldn’t have told him you loved him. He gave you an out and you didn’t take it. What kind of person does that? Was this just a game to you? A joke?

It’s now been a week since Tom last heard from you and his heart still aches but he pushes that aside just like he’s pushing the random girl that looks nothing like you into his apartment, their mouths moving in sync. It’s rough, aggressive, something Tom once lived for. The woman is handsy, her hands exploring Tom’s body as they make their way to Tom’s room and of course, he enjoys it. It’s a way for him to forget for a little bit but she’s not you.

Tom lightly pushes the woman on the bed and she wiggles her brows, a daring smirk on her face. It’s the opposite of you. He shakes his head and meets her smirk, his eyes darkening as he hovers over her. Tom’s lips meet his hers and she doesn’t waste her time, stripping Tom’s shirt from his back, the silver chain tugging back with the fabric. It dangles from his neck once his shirt is tossed across the room but the woman doesn’t touch it, she pulls Tom’s face back to hers.

Tom’s hands move over her legs, her skirt hiked up around her hips. She’s aggressive and quick, it’s so rushed. She’s already working on the belt of Tom’s jeans, tugging them down. Tom nips at her neck as his fingers pull her underwear to the side and start working her with ease.

She’s the first person he’s had in his room since his night with you. Tom hasn’t had any interest in sex with anyone besides you. Something fell into place, like it was proof that him sleeping around all the time wasn’t right for him. It wasn’t helping but, he can’t get you out of his fucking head. He needs to try something and this worked before. It worked momentarily, but it fucking helped. So, he’s taking control and stripping the woman of her clothes, having her get on all fours while he puts on a condom.

Tom pushes into her and doesn’t allow much time for her to adjust before his movements are fast are hard. The woman is moaning, far louder than you and it’s haunting him. His teeth are clenched and his grip is tight around her hips. He’s careful not to hurt her but still lost in his own head. It’s like he’s just trying to fuck the memory of you out of his head. This woman was around and she keeps telling him to go faster and harder. But, there’s guilt trickling into Tom’s mind because this still isn’t right. This isn’t right but he can’t quite bring himself to stop and the headboard of his bed hits his wall repeatedly and if you were home, you’d surely be able to hear it, if not the moans are plenty loud of enough.

Finally, the woman beneath him is screaming Tom’s name in a fit of ecstasy and he reaches around to hold her up before her shaky legs gave out. And within a few more seconds, Tom’s hips were sputtering and he was finishing in a loud grunt. They both collapsed on either side of each other when Tom pulled out. He looked at her and she’s not you. The room smells of sex and this woman looks ready for a shameless second round, something Tom would normally be perfectly ready for. The sex is good but Tom feels horrible. Using this girl to try and get over you, that’s not fair or right. And what if you have a good explanation.

Guilt.

“Good?” Tom asks, looking at the girl, small beads of sweat on her forehead.

“Great.” She winks as she sits up. “Should do this again.” There’s a cornered smile as she looks back to Tom.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tom agrees, not meaning the words falling from his mouth.

He gets up and discards of the condom, putting a pair of sweatpants on while the woman starts to cloth herself. Tom directs her to the bathroom once they’re both dressed. As Tom walks down the hall, his mind blank, a knock sounds on his door. He rolls his eyes but goes to the door. He opens it and his heart jumps into his throat, bile rising from his stomach.

“Hi.” You say, eyes glossed and red.

Tom just stares at you with furrowed brows and a straight mouth. That’s what you have to say? You’ve been MIA for a week, asking your dad to tell him not to call you and you just show up to say ‘hi’? The audacity you have is truly astounding. You might as well have ripped Tom’s heart and took it with you, leaving him high dry as if he didn’t have actual feelings. As if he wouldn’t be worried to hell about you and blame himself for something that likely wasn’t even his fault.  _He trusted you._  How dare you just show up.

“Hey, Tom? Have you seen my phone? I think I dropped it when we- oh.” The woman says as she comes walking down the hall and catches a glimpse of you standing in front of the open door, still in the hallway.

Her hair is a mess, makeup partially smeared from sweat. You look at Tom, his hair the same bit of a mess and he’s shirtless. You finally catch a glimpse of a faint red mark on Tom’s shoulder. The realization hits you like a bus. You nod and swallow the lump that had formed.

Tom just stands there, speechless before he just shakes his head, staring you down and finally, shutting the door in your face.


	18. sad truths

To say you felt horrible would be a complete understatement. Tom just slammed the door in your face after you saw someone he very clearly just had sex with. Having a door slammed in your face doesn’t feel good at all, but it especially hurts when it’s by someone you truly care about, even if you’ve made it seem like you don’t.

While you go to your apartment, your head is hung because you know it’s your fault. You don’t need to talk to Tom in order to know that. You don’t need to know how long it took him to fall back into old habits because no matter what, it’s your fault. You told him he doesn’t have to be alone, if he’s awake, you’re awake, and then you left. You told your dad to tell him to stop calling. It’s your fault. 

However, even though you pushed him away it ate at you. Every single day it ate at you. It was all split though on why it was eating at you. Being ignored isn’t exactly pleasant and you know Tom has his issues even if he won’t tell you. For all you know, that’s why he reacts the way he does. He’s afraid people will always leave and just without a word. You should have thought about that before dropping off the face of the earth for a week. But, the other part of you that’s eating at you, you’re not happy. Sure, you’ve been happy long before Tom and you’ve accepted anything life throws at you because it’s life. You don’t pick your fate, you just ride it out. But, Tom, Tom made you happy and want to enjoy your life again, live it to the fullest extent. You hate to admit it because you do can everything on your own, but you need Tom. You need him to remind you why life is worth living and Tom needs you to keep his faith. But, now you’re both slipping and you’re losing faith in everything. So, is there any way you both can get traction again?

The next day had rolled around and you and tom happened to be leaving your apartments at the same time. Tom looked at you and he swore he was going to internally combust right then and there but all he did was shake his head and continue locking his door, not saying a word. You watched him but didn’t say anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because while you know that at least a few days of going MIA can be explained, the others were just you being selfish. It should have been Tom’s choice to cut ties off, not yours.

You headed for the elevator but the second you stepped foot inside, Tom left, nearly missing the doors, opting for the stairs. How’s he supposed to look at you? He has to work with you but he shouldn’t have to look at you if he doesn’t have to. He feels guilty for sleeping with the woman the night before. He tried to find a way to drown out the static of you but he couldn’t. It was driving him insane and the only thing that worked before, with the last girl, was sex. It calms the static down. Of course, it didn’t work this time. Nothing works but having to see you right after, that just amplified it. It’s like the static is coming from a radio and the radio has now been plugged into a large speaker for a concert being held at Soldier Field. So, what’s he supposed to tell you? He’s sorry?

So, you went your separate ways and you went to work. You worked but didn’t say a single word to each other. You’re just unsure of where to start to explain, knowing you hurt him and Tom not knowing how else to come back form this. He’s too used to letting people down and people giving up on him that he just doesn’t see the point. There’s no point anymore. The way he sees it, if you have a good explanation, he’s the bad guy. If you don’t have one, he’s still the bad guy because you came back. He doesn’t want to face the music. He’d rather have static.

After that day, however, you stopped coming into work. You talked it over with your dad and you didn’t want to face Tom seeing as it was clear he didn’t want to talk to you. You wanted to give him space, time to just breathe maybe. Regain his footing, something. Your dad, somehow, agreed but that was likely because he didn’t agree with the way you handled things with Tom. He doesn’t like Tom, but he knows when his daughter is in the wrong.

Unfortunately, time seems to fly when you’re just going day to day with no expectations of anything. So, when week two of not speaking to each other rolled around, you were surprised to hear a knock on your door. Part of your heart picked up with hope, maybe, just maybe Tom was ready to talk to you. Something. But, when you opened your door, Harrison stood in the hallway, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

“You’re going to yell at me, aren’t you?” You ask, looking at the furious expression the normally cheery boy had.

“Uh-huh.” Harrison nods once.

“Okay,” You say softly and allow him inside. “Just, my neighbors are home, so not too loud. I don’t want a noise complaint.” You move to your kitchen and take a seat at your table, staring at Harrison and waiting for him to start.

Harrison’s caught off guard. He had a huge speech planned out. He was going to scream at you until he wasn’t able to anymore. All he wanted to do was tell you that you’re a terrible person and you can’t just do this to people, destroy his best friend but you’re calm. You’re calm and staring at him, ready for him to yell at you. Who’s that okay with it? You even knew that’s why he was there.

“You’re just gonna let me yell at you?” Harrison asks, brows pulled together.

“I deserve it. I’ve been waiting for it if I’m being honest, so yeah. Go ahead and yell.” You say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Harrison hesitates but the distraught image of Tom is plastered in his memories, so he takes a deep breath and starts his lecture. “You’re a fuckin’ bitch, you know? Disappearing like that and showing up like you have any fucking right? Like nothing happened? He was worried shitless! Until your damn father had to relay the fuckin’ message. What your arms suddenly broken and you’re unable to ring him up your bloody self? Can’t break it off like a good person? Not worth the fuckin’ phone call to you? He told me everything between the two of you and you…you can’t just tell someone you love them and disappear, y/n! You can’t do that! You can’t do that to my best mate! How fuckin’ dare you! You know, he’s been through so much fuckin’ shit and he’s been trying to protect you from knowing because he was terrified it’d scare you away? But fuck, good thing he didn’t listen to me because you ran the second shit got a little scary, right? You see him panic and freak out, for what? The second time and you’ve gotta bail on him? After telling him he doesn’t have to do it alone? Who the fuck do you think you are? He needed you and you weren’t here! You ran away! You broke him.  _Again_.” Harrison shakes his head, his voice coming back down to a speaking level with his last sentence.

“Uh,” You swallow, fighting tears. “A-are you done?”

“Yeah.” Harrison runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m done.”

“I did have a reason, ya know?” You offer as Harrison goes to turn. He looks over his shoulder, brows raised.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.” Harrison quips.

“You can’t tell him.”

Harrison scoffs. “Yeah, we’ll fuckin’ see. I don’t owe you shit.”

You sigh. “I have dilated cardiomyopathy.”

Harrison’s eyes widen and the anger completely evaporates. “You have what?”

“It’s a heart condition where my heart is a little too big and it can’t pump blood correctly.” You explain simply.

“Okay,” Harrison says, pulling out one of the chairs from the table and taking a seat. “What’s it mean?”

Part of Harrison is starting to regret not hearing you out first. A heart condition, even if he has no idea what it is, can’t be good. He knows about your scar. Tom told him so now he’s just panicked and hoping you’re not really going to give him bad news. He’s pissed at you, but he doesn’t hate you, not completely.

“Uh, well, for me, it means random emergency surgery the day I went MIA.”

Harrison drops his head and looks back to you. “I’m so sorry. I just…I just. Wow, I should have heard your-”

“No,” You cut him off. “Because the surgery happened that day and all they had to do was put in a pacemaker and they held me for two days. I deserve to be yelled at because you’re still right. I’m just telling you why.”

“Why’d they have to put in a pacemaker? Is everything okay?”

“Promise, you won’t tell Tom and I’ll tell you.”

Harrison shakes his head. “I can’t do that, not unless you promise you’ll tell him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Your voice is almost pleading.

“So make him.” Harrison suggests. “Sit outside his fuckin’ door and make him talk to you. It’s not that hard.”

“I do want to tell him, that’s why I showed up. I do want to. I don’t want him hearing it from you.” You explain.

“Alright, I’ll give you a bit then but he does give a shit about you, even now, which I know sounds a bit…weird given what you walked in on but he does. So, okay.”

“His idea of coping is sex. I ignored him for a week. I’m not mad. I’m hurt but that’s because I care about him and I hurt him. I’m not mad.” Your voice is calm and understanding.

“Well, go on then.”

“Okay, so I had my first heart surgery when I was fifteen. They had to go in and repair it. That’s when I was diagnosed. It wasn’t real bad then, ya know? This stuff tends to get worse with time. Well, about a year ago I was put on the transplant list. I was a status 2. That means yeah I need it but I can wait. It’s not a high priority. However,” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “I was moved up to 1b. That means I need it. I can stay home and not at the hospital, but…I need it. 1a is next which is basically you’re on a ventilator hoping for a miracle.”

“What are the odds you’ll get a heart?” Harrison asks, touches of panic started to overcome his expression.

“I don’t know. A heart isn’t like a liver or the kidneys. There’s one that can be donated per person and it has to match your blood and a bunch of other stuff. And if that heart stops, the donor heart, it’s no longer viable. There’s a lot so it’s kind of a hoping game.”

Harrison runs a hand through his hair, guilt now overcoming him. “I’m sorry. I really am. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The looks you’re giving me.” You shrug. “It’s the same look of pity and I hate that look. I can do things on my own and…” You trail off. “I-I don’t want…I didn’t want Tom to deal with it. If I die, I…I can’t put him through that but,” You pause before you start rambling. “I know that’s wrong and it’s not fair and it should be his choice if he wants to deal with this or not. It’s not mine because me up and leaving is worse than if I were to give him the choice and die because at least he’d know and I know it’s wrong. I just, I’ve been there. I get it. I didn’t want him to go through it, too.”

“He already has.” Harrison dodges your stare but only for a second. His blue eyes gloss over and a hard lump forms, tears already threatening to slip. “He’ll end me when you tell him because I expect you to tell him but…you need to know now.”

“What? What do you mean I need to know and he’s been through it?” Your eyes are wide and your rate picks up while your hands start to grow clammy.

With a deep breath, Harrison starts. “There was a girl when we were in school. Tom and her had been together since we were like fourteen. He loved her more than anything. I mean, really, really loved her. She’s the one loved her. So, they dated through school and everyone loved her, too and was sure, she’s the one but, we all graduate and it’s Valentine’s Day. You might not know but Tom is actually really kind of cheesey where you want to gag.” Harrison lets out a soft chuckle before continuing. “So, he planned this date and it’s away from the city ya know? Just for the two of ‘emm to have a good night. Tom…kind of wanted to promise he’d marry her. He wasn’t ready to propse, they wre eighteen but he was sure she was the one. So he had this promise thing planned, ya know?” Harrison has to pause for a second, catch his thoughts. “You know the nightmare he had?”

“Yeah, it involved you…” You say hesitatingly, terrified of where Harrison was going.

“It’s real. Part of it, clearly seeing as I’m in front of you. But, it’s partially real. Truck came out of nowhere and hit them on Elena’s side of the car on the way to their date. There was a seat belt malfunction and she was thrown from her seat and through the windshield. Tom was driving.”

You close your eyes for a second, your heart aching, remembering the pure terror in Tom’s eyes when you had woken him up. “What?” Your face contorts in touches of disbelief and devastation.

“He was knocked unconscious but when he came to, there were paramedics arriving and such, but Elena was on the hood of the car, dead, staring at him. I wasn’t there so I just know what he tells me and what doctors told his parents from the scene. But, that’s what happened and that’s what he saw every time he closed his eyes, for a long time. It didn’t help that from the impact, his door was lodged and pinned his leg down so he couldn’t move. He was just trapped staring at her, ya know? He couldn’t try and help her.” Harrison’s voice breaks and a tear falls down his cheek before he wipes it away. “It was really, really bad. I lived with him and his parents for a bit, making sure he’d be alight because he wouldn’t talk to them a lot. He really only told me and the nightmares were really bad. Ya know? He was driving so he blames himself when it wasn’t his fault. There was a blind spot and the truck didn’t see them. It was an accident but that doesn’t change it.”

You just stares at Harrison in disbelief. You wish Tom would have told you but at the same time, you sees why he wouldn’t. Of course you do because you don’t talk about your stuff either. It’s hard to relive traumatic and sad experiences. Every time it’s talked about, it’s like it’s being relived and you can see everything happen in front of your eyes all over again. If Tom is still having nightmares four years later, it haunts him and you can’t blame him for not telling you. But, maybe had you opened up to him, he would have and you wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t be sitting in front of Harrison and Harrison wouldn’t be betraying his friend. It’s not fair.

“So, anyway, his parents had him talk to someone and he got better. He did. He wasn’t fully back to himself but I don’t think Tom will ever be like he was before. But, he got better and he wanted a change and the US always sounded interesting, I guess so we both moved here. And, because Tom has to have the worst luck, there’s more.”

“What else could he have gone through?” You nearly yell, your heart aching and wanting nothing more than to hunt Tom down and hug him. Take everything back.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Harrison groans. “So, ya know Garner?”

“Guy who beat you guys up, yeah.” You nod.

“So, basically, Tom took up boxing more when we got here. It was something for him to get out his stress. He competed, more of an underground thing, but he didn’t do it often, just every now and then. Well, Garner, guy to beat, Tom kicked the guy’s ass. I mean, Tom didn’t look much better afterward, but he did and it just, Garner was humiliated because Tom’s short and skinny.” Harrison chuckles. “Garner is tall as hell, built like a fuckin’ tree so he was embarrassed. That meant, he was going to humiliate Tom. Garner convinced his girlfriend to try and get with Tom as a joke.”

“He didn’t.” You say wincing.

“He did! I told Tom something was up with Monica, something just wasn’t right, I dunno but this was the first girl he was seeing after Elena so I didn’t want to push too hard. So, fast forward a few months, after Tom has given her nearly everything because Tom actually had a nice job at the time. He got lucky there, so he bought her anything she wanted. Disgusting, bitch she is.  So, I dunno, think it was four or five months, we show up at the gym and she’s there with Garner and all his mates and just people who came around for the fights and that’s when it came out that Monica was just dating him as this joke and they went on to quote texts Tom sent to her, saying he loved her and shit I don’t wanna get into. I’m telling you, it was horrible. It was like high school, bullshit and it just further fucked him up. He gave her something, belonged to his mum, so she wouldn’t give it back. We snuck into her house and stole it. Tom forgot she had cameras and that’s why we got our asses kicked.”

“Why would anyone do that?” You ask, shaking your head.

“Fuck if I know. Cruel is what it is. So, that’s why Tom just…gave up.” Harrison shrugs. “Didn’t see the point anymore, gettin’ close just for people to leave. Blames himself even for Monica. One night, he got so pissed, he went on this whole thing about how it’s because he’s hard to love or some shit. Was a rough night.”

“Yeah, I get why he’s…him.”

Harrison nods. “Yeah, see why he doesn’t talk much about it now?”

“Yeah,” You nod, your voice soft and sad.

“Ya know, that’s why he freaked so bad?” Harrison nearly whispers. “Your scar, it freaked him out and apparently, he had good reason to. I get you not telling him, I do but now you need to you. And part of why he kept freakin’ is because he found out you were okay so he thought-”

“I was like Monica.”

“Yeah, he’s always scared people are just using him or they’re fuckin’ with him.” Harrison’s eyes are distant. “He loves you. He does and you scare the living fuck out of him because of it so, prove to him you’re who he thinks you are. I think you made him have faith he isn’t that hard to love, afterall.”

“He isn’t!” You defend. “If anything, loving him is easy. And I want to explain everything, Harrison but he won't’ talk to me.”

“I’m serious. Sit outside his door. He wants to talk to you but he thinks this is his fault so he’s going to try and avoid you. Make it easier on  _you_. Fight him. Push past him and let yourself in his place. But you need to tell him. He knocked on your door twice a day, every single day. Had me even do it a few times.”

“All week?” You question.

“Mhm.” Harrison hums. “Every. Damn. Day. He missed you and you hurt him. Time for you to make it right.”

“Why did it take you two weeks for you yell at me, then?” You blurt out.

“What?” Harrison scrucnhes his face.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been home for two weeks and you’re showing up now. Why? Why didn’t you show up sooner? What happened?”

Harrison rolls his eyes and shrugs a shoulder. “Seb broke up with me last night. Said she can’t handle me always ditching her for Tom.”

You nod. “That’s crappy.”

“Bout as shitty as what you’ve done to Tom so.” Harrison quips.

“I’m dying. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” You retort.

“Don’t play the dying card. Makes you seem like a prick.”

“Ouch.” You groan.

“It does. You don’t get to play a dying card because I think I know you well enough to know you have more faith in this than anyone. You think you’ll get a heart which means you’re not dying. You’re too happy to think you’re gonna die.” The corner of Harrison’s mouth tugs into a soft smirk.

“Yeah, I do.” You give him a soft smile. “Tom’s lucky to have you.”

“I know.” Harrison laughs. “I know.”

“You’re his person and if Seb can’t handle that, she’s not worth your time.”

“My what?” Harrison looks at you as if you have three heads.

“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Can’t say I have, no.”

You roll your eyes. “If you have to rob a bank, you call Tom. If Tom needs help hiding a corpse, he’s calling you and you’d help him drag the corpse across the living room, no questions asked.”

Harrisons laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, guess you’re right there.”

“I am!” You giggle. “You do everything for him and he’s lucky to have you.”

Harrison nods but there’s something different in his eyes. It’s not sadness or even a distance anymore. It’s almost like he’s content with everything. Something you said seemed to put something in place for him.

“Tom’s lucky to have you.”

You scoff. “Yeah, someone who ditches him because things get a little rough.”

“No,” Harrison shakes his head. “He is because you put him back together when I couldn’t. Yeah, you fucked up but you know you did. You know you did and you want to fix it so, he’s lucky to have you, when he talks to you again.”

“Think he’ll really talk to me again?”

“Yeah, he will.”

“Is he gonna run when I tell him?”

Harrison doesn’t answer at first, giving you the answer you don’t want but you can’t blame him. You ran and it’s about you. You ran because you’ve been in Tom’s shoes before. He’s already been here. If he wants to run, you won’t blame him. He should run because if you don’t make it, it won’t hurt as bad.

“Yes. He’s going to run but he’ll come back.”

“You sure?” You ask.

“Positive. He wouldn’t still be working at your shop if he wanted nothing to do with you.”

“Okay.” You gives him a nervous smile. “Guess I’ll camp out outside his door.”

“Good.” Harrison gives you a side smile. “I expect a call from Tom later telling me off for telling you everything.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“You needed to know. You needed to understand why this is so bad and why you need to tell him yourself. If I didn’t think you didn’t need to know, I wouldn’t have told you. You make him better. I do like you despite this bullshit, so I’m rooting for you guys. But you two need to fuckin’ talk shit out.”

“I’m sorry about Seb.”

“Yeah,” Harrison brushes it off. “You’re right. Can’t handle Tom needing me, not worth my time, I guess.”

“But you really like her.”

“Yeah, ‘course I do but Tom’s my best mate. He comes first.” Harrison rests a hand on the table and goes to get up. “Well, that was fun and I hope this never happens again. I’m gonna get a drink, you alright, though?”

You nod. “Nervous to talk to Tom. He’s gonna yell.”

“Yes.” Harrison nods and gives you a closed smile. “He’s gonna yell and you’re gonna deal with it.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

“He’ll forgive you, don’t be too nervous.” Harrison shrugs as he walks towards the door. “You can call, by the way, if you need anything. Not pity, just,” Harrison pauses. “Sometimes people need other people to talk to.”

“You’re Tom’s friend.” You state.

“Yeah,” Harrison rolls his shoulders. “But, I consider you a friend. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have wasted my time in coming over to yell at you. He’s my friend first but, I do like you so, I’m here, too.”

“You’re a good person, Harrison Osterfield.”

“I know, a damn good one.” Harrison laughs as he opens the door. “Good luck.” Harrison says before he leaves you to yourself.

You found yourself in a bit of a panic after Harrison left. You’re ready to tell Tom, you are but you’re terrified. You’re scared because you can’t put him through another loss. That’s not fair to him but you owe him an explanation and you want to fix this. You destroyed everything and all you want to do is fix it.

One of the biggest mistakes of your life, is this. It’s leaving Tom high and dry. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything bad to happen. He deserves happiness and how the hell can one person go through so much? You just made it worse and the last thing you want to do is talk to him and somehow make it worse. How you possibly could is the real question but it’s still eating you up. Tom deserves better.

You waited until it was half hour until the end of Tom’s shift and packed up your laptop as well as a few articles of Tom’s clothes he’d let you borrow in case this went how you thought it would, Tom kicking you out and ending it for real and completely. You went to sit in front of his door. Harrison might have been being dramatic but you aren’t taking any risks. You’re going to sit outside his door and make him talk to you. And you’re going to try and distract yourself with writing and you have his clothes in case he wants to cut off ties. Just in case Harrison is wrong.

What if Harrison is wrong? What if Tom is just done? You wouldn’t blame him, not after what he’s been through. You don’t even blame him for not wanting to talk to you. It all makes sense and it hurts, of course it fucking hurts like a ton of bricks sitting on your chest, but you get it. If you’re being honest, you’d probably not want anything to do with him if the roles were reversed. Tom doesn’t owe you anything, not even to hear you out.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear footsteps approaching. Tom’s eyes are locked on you and his NIKEs start lightly dragging on the floor as if to slow him down. His jaw is clenched with his fists at his sides. The last thing he wants right now is to talk to you and it’s written all over his face. But, you grab your things and stand up as Tom reaches his door.

“Can we talk?” You ask softly, Tom keeping his eyes on the door.

“No, fuck off.” Tom mumbles, getting his door open.

“I want to explain.” You try as Tom walks inside.

“Don’t fuckin’ care what you want.” Tom avoids looking at you, knowing he’ll cave if he does. He goes to shut the door but you put your foot in the way.

“No.” You say. “No, I want to explain. I messed up and I’ll stand in the hallway and tell you exactly what happened and you can yell at me if you want but you’re gonna hear me out.”

Tom sighs and opens his door, allowing you inside, not wanting to make a scene for once. “Fine. Explain and get the fuck out.” Tom walks to his fridge and your heart sinks, your eyes burning as you shut the door. You rest your things on the floor and walk further inside, but keep a few feet of distance between you and Tom.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Yeah? What for? Telling me you love me, which was a lie clearly. Disappearing? Ignoring me? Telling me to stop callin’ through your dad? Randomly showing up and lookin’ at me like I’m the bad guy? Should I go on?” Tom opens the beer bottle and takes a long swig.

“Everything.” You say. “Besides telling you that I love you because I do. That’s not a lie.”

Tom scoffs. “Got a funny way of showing it.”

“Yell at me.” You say and Tom stares at you but avoids looking directly looking at your face. “Yell at me, Tom! Just do it already so I can get on with what-”

“You’re-GOD You’re terrible!” Tom starts, your breath hitching with sudden loudness and venom in his voice. “You’re fuckin’ horrible! What the fuck did I ever do that was so fuckin’ terrible to you? You just left! You can’t tell someone you love them and then just leave! Don’t you know what that can do to someone? I-I-I fuckin’ trusted you and you just, left like it was nothing! Like _I’m_ nothing! Not everything revolves around you! I trusted you and I told you I loved you and I can’t do that! You-you can’t, you left when it got bad! You promised you wouldn’t leave! You did anyway! What the fuck, y/n?” Tom’s eyes move to yours and they’re glossed over already. He shakes his head and licks his lips, taking another drink from the bottle.

You hang your head. “I know…” Your voice is small and broken.

“I thought something happened to you! And then you were just fine! You were fuckin’ fine and then the second I get so fuckin’ tired of you always being in my damn head, I try and do something about it and you show up! You just show up and then…it’s like I fuckin’ cheated on you!”

“Stop.” You say, just above a whisper.

“It’s true! I know we didn’t say it but we were basically together, ya? And I slept with someone else and now I feel like fuckin’ shit because I hurt you but you hurt me and this isn’t fuckin’-”

“Tom!” You cut him off. “You didn’t cheat, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? I left you. I ignored you. You didn’t cheat.”

“Feels like I did.” Tom states with the gesture of his hands out. “Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and takes another drink. “Talk and go the fuck away.” Tom sniffles, fighting back the urge to cry from pure frustration and guilt.

“I lied.” You say, ripping the band-aid off. “When I said I was fine, I lied because I didn’t want to scare you or hurt you.” Tom’s eyes snap back to yours and his heart sinks. “When I went MIA, it’s because something didn’t feel right…like I don’t know. It was just kind of hard to breathe and my chest didn’t feel right so I called my dad and let him know I was going to the doctor. I tried to go but ended up going to the emergency room because something wasn’t right and it wasn’t. I have dilated cardiomyopathy and I needed to go in for emergency surgery. My heart isn’t strong enough to pump on its own anymore so they put in a pacemaker. I need a new heart and I’ve needed one. I’ve moved up on the transplant list.” You explain everything as clearly as you can, keeping your voice straong and just getting it all over with.

“That’s not funny.” Tom says and his voice breaks just enough for you to hear.

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s not.”

“Some sick idea of a joke, ya know?” You can see Tom’s eyes water even from where you stand.

“Not a joke.” You look to the floor, trying to help yourself from crying. You’re okay with dying, at least you were. You were okay with it. You learned to be okay with it but things change and people change. Now, you hate the idea. “I, um, I thought that maybe if I left that you, you would hate me, ya know?” Your voice wavers and your lip quivers. “And then that’d be it? It’d be easier on you because then you wouldn’t have to watch me die or get that phone call in the middle of the night and I thought it’d be easier because I wish I was given that choice. I wish I had known but I didn’t and then I just..I realized that you should get the choice and none of it’s fair and  _Tom, I’m sorry._ ” You get the last few words out in a soft cry with tears start to leak from your eyes as you look back to Tom.

Tom’s grip on the bottle tightens. All he can think about is Elena and that this cannot possibly be happening again. He had to watch his first love die and he still blames himself for it and now he’s going to be forced to watch you die. How the hell is this fair? What the hell did he ever do to have to watch people he loves die? Why can’t he just be happy with someone? And what the fuck did you ever do to deserve this? It’s not fair to you.

His throat tightens and his eyes start to burn. Tom puts his bottle down on the table and closes the few feet of distance between you. His arms come around you as if it’s still second nature and you just break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post to Tumblr and based on the theories people were throwing me, I feel obligated to just say that this isn't 2011 and Tom/Haz aren't going to die and give her a heart.


	19. magnetic puzzle

Tom’s eyes are closed and he takes in a sharp breath. His chin rests atop your head and his grip around you is tight. You’re crying into his chest, your arms wrapped around him and your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt to try and ground yourself. Every time you grasp his clothing tighter, Tom squeezing his eyes shut harder, anything to try and prevent tears from spilling. 

He swore something happened to make you so damn nice all the time. You’re calm and sweet, graceful and innocent. No one is just like that and now, now he gets it and he’s never wanted to be more wrong in his life. Life is sometimes so fucking cruel to people who don’t even deserve it. And you sobbing into him is proof of that.

A tear rolls down Tom’s cheek as he pulls his head away just enough and places a long, tender kiss to your forehead before placing his chin back on top of your head. He’s not quite sure why he did because he’s still absolutely livid but, you were there for him. It’s his turn to be there for you.

With the gesture, your sobbing starts to calm and you move to look at him. He’s there, and fully there. There’s no distance in his eyes but his face is in a hardened expression, one you can’t quite read.

“You alright?” His voice is gentle and caring, the complete opposite of what it was just minutes prior.

You nod, pulling away from him and wiping your eyes. The lump comes back with you moving away but it doesn’t feel right to continue to hug him. You betrayed him by lying and ignoring him and while his hug helped,  _ **he**  helped_, it doesn’t feel right. It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of his warmth and kindness and you can’t do that to him. So, now you stand a foot away from him, arms crossed and goosebumps rising on your hoodie covered skin. Your body already freezing from the lack of Tom.

“Yeah, fine.” You say weakly. “I’m okay. I, I just wanted to explain.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “And tell you I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Tom says quietly, his brows pull together, showing his pain. Mad, but not too proud to admit he’s sorry. “Care to sit and really talk?” A touch of relief comes to you with the offer.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Tom licks his lips and puts his hands in his front pockets. “Alright.”

There’s awkwardness in the air as the two of you move to the couch. It’s weird for it to be awkward. It hasn’t been awkward in months but now it is. You’re exposing yourself to Tom in a way you never planned to or ever wanted to. You’re a crying mess, something you pride yourself in never being. You accepted your fate but things change, people change and you’re crumbling just like Tom was and is.

Tom is trying to wrap his mind around this and he can’t quite find the words because how exactly does someone even approach this topic? And he doesn’t know Harrison told you of his past so now it’s just eating at him to share but how? He doesn’t talk about it. Two people who’re supposed to trust each other, have been hiding their deepest and most pained secrets from each other. But, it’s like they say, everyone has a chapter they don’t read out loud.

“So,” Tom takes a deep breath as he sits to face you, on one side of the couch and you on the other just like the first night. “What?” Tom asks, waiting for a more in-depth explanation.

“Um,” You clear your throat. “It, it uh, when I was fifteen, part of my heart tore which was lucky for me because I was already in the hospital for kidney stones so they caught it. I went for surgery and I almost died but I didn’t. That’s when they found out I have dilated cardiomyopathy. My heart muscles are too big for my heart so it kind of constricts it from bumping correctly and when that happens, ya know, you die eventually. Heart gives out from trying to make up for the extra work.” You sniffle and shake your head. “That’s the scar. Well, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It just kind of felt like this really weird pressure on my chest and it hurt a bit, so I went to the emergency room and,” You pause. “My heart is getting weaker so I needed a pacemaker to help it work correctly until I can get a new heart.”

“How long?” Tom asks, barely allowing you to finish your sentence.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, showing your confusion.

“Do…you have?” Tom asks quietly, dodging his stare from you.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You shrug. “Some people, I guess, who have a heart like mine can live for six months with a pacemaker and others get three months, some less, some more. It just depends on the deterioration of the heart muscles.” Tom nods, chewing on his lip. “I’ll get a hear though.”

Tom’s stare snaps back to you. “You so sure?”

“You can be a pessimist all you want, Holland but for the sake of my own sanity, for right now, I need you to be an optimist and just agree that I’m gonna get a heart and I’m not gonna die.”

Tom looks away and there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, one of absolute and utter disbelief. “Why’re you so…positive? Doesn’t it ever get tiring?” There’s the smallest trace of venom starting to seep into his words.

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your calm manner. “Yeah, but, It’s been over five years. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen what people go through when people die and I see what it’s like to be afraid and wallow in it and why? I’ll get a heart. Doesn’t hurt anyone to keep an open mind.”

“You’re gonna get a heart.” Tom says, and there’s reluctance in his voice, the pessimistic part of him wanting to disagree.

He doesn’t know everything, he knows very little about transplants and medical information in general but the one thing he does know is that transplants aren’t that easy. Transplants are talked about on tv, radio, in passing. It’s public knowledge that it’s not as easy as people needing something and then they get it. People die on the list all the time because there’s not enough organs to go around and save everyone. A heart being one of the hardest organs to get.

“Yep.” You nod and the room is silent.

Tom, while hurt and upset and completely devastated for you, he’s still so hurt by what you did. He’s hurt by everything. He wants to scream and yell, holler and punch a wall. Something to get it all out but he looks at you and he just, he has to breathe. He has to breathe because you’re struggling. You’re struggling to stay afloat, keep your faith up and your head clear. Keep your innocent smile and innocence. Tom sees through you like cellophane. He has to keep his temper in check, for the sake of you. So, time for him to fess up because if he’s gonna blow, he might as well blow up about his own life.

“I’m still mad at you.” Tom says, his voice flat but honest.

You look at him and can see the annoyance in the wrinkles of his face. “I know and you should be.”

“I am.” Tom gives you a dry chuckle and you look down, your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and another lump coming to your throat as if it’s becoming a permanent part of your anatomy. “But..I can’t lose you, too…” Tom’s voice goes weak with his words and you look up to him, knowing what he means.

“Harrison told me…” You whisper.

“He what?” Tom yells, taken back by your words.

“He said I needed to know so I would understand why….” You pause. “I don’t know, why you’re ignoring me back and the nightmare and everything.”

Tom’s jaw clenches, his eyes darkening and you swear he’s going to snap. “Fuck’s sake, nothing fuckin’ private anymore?” Tom yells.

“You weren’t telling me.” You say softly.

“Course I wasn’t fuckin’ tellin’ you!” Tom stands up, anger now flooding over him. “I don’t tell anyone! Especially you!” Tom gestures out to you. “You’ll look at me with fuckin’ pity and be scared to ever leave again because you’ll think I can’t fuckin’ handle it and the fact you’re sitting here now, not any other time, proves that! Fuck.” Tom runs a hand through his hair, his face turning a shade of a red.

“You wouldn’t let me talk to you.” You keep your voice calm.

“God!” Tom looks up and back to you. “You’re pissed off! Fight with me for fuck’s sake! Just do it! ‘M screaming in your fuckin’ face and you can’t even be bothered to defend yourself! Stop fuckin’ pitying in me!”

You don’t get mad. Life is too short to waste your breath in yelling when things can be resolved with a calm conversation. Everything in the world can be solved with a conversation and a compromise. You don’t just yell and get mad. It’s too much work and it’s too much stress but there are veins popping out from Tom’s neck and he’s furious. His fists are balled and he’s ready to just put his fist through the wall.

“I’m not pitying you!” You yell and stand up. “I’m not!”

“Then why do you bloody show up when Haz tells you? Because you’ll feel guilty!”

“Oh yeah, real easy to feel guilty when I’m dead, don’t you think? Ever think maybe I just care about you? Because I worry about you? Huh, Tom? I know about Monica, too.” You snap. He isn’t going to stop, so you might as well fuel him. “Yeah, I get it, she played you as a joke! It’s screwed up! I get why you’re you! I get it! But don’t stand here and scream at me because I finally had to sit outside your door because you wouldn’t talk to me either!”

“Cause you ignored me! Told your dad to tell me to stop callin’! Course I didn’t want to talk to you and I already told you this!”

“Then why are you still yelling at me?” You gesture both of your hands out. “Why? I am here to apologize and explain why I disappeared. I wanted to tell you, I did but you didn’t want to see me or talk to me. So, I was going to give you space, as much as you needed but then Harrison came by and, Tom,” You look away from him for a second. “Did you ever think for two seconds that you’re not the only person who watched someone you love die and that’s part of why I’m here? I get it!” You scream louder than you ever have, your voice cracking with your scream.

“Because….” Tom starts to yell but he pauses and shakes his hand, his voice coming down. “I deserve it, I dunno.” Tom sighs and his face starts to return the normal peach tone that’s him. “I…don’t tell people I love them. They die or it’s just a game.” Tom’s voice is strained and reluctant.

“I don’t tell people I love them because _I_ might die.” You says softly. “That’s why I told you not to fall in love with me and why I didn’t want….more, I guess. I thought it’d be easier on  _you_  if I died but I already said that.”

A few beats pass as Tom lets your words sink in. He knows, he knows, he does but there’s so much and it just boils over. He can’t help it sometimes and this, you, everything, it brings up everything in flashes. It scares the living hell out of him. But you know now.

Tom chest rises and falls as his blood starts to cool. “I miss her, ya know? Not Monica.” Tom specifies. “A lot.” His adam’s apple bobs with the hard swallow of his words.

“I miss Alex.” You admit, the first time you’ve said his name in a year.

“How long?”

“Christmas Eve was two years. You?”

“Valentine’s day, four years.” Tom nods.

You’re both standing and there’s no more anger in the air, just frustration but not even with each other anymore just at everything. At life and the universe for doing this. They say everything happens for a reason but in this exact moment, the both of you are certain that’s utter bullshit. It’s said to make people feel better for whatever shitty thing just happened.

“What happened?” Tom asks.

“Tell you if you tell me.”

“Harrison told you.” Tom says quickly but his voice is level, almost emotionless and drained.

“I know.” You say, softly but your eyes stay on him.

Tom nods and the two of you take your places back on the couch, this time sitting closer. Sure, Tom is a hothead and he loses his temper more than he should but he’s not wrong. You needed to yell at him. Tom isn’t wrong for what he did but you still had a right to yell at him. You needed to get some of the pent-up anger out and Tom encouraged it. It feels like, maybe you can breathe a little better. You’re still treading water and getting tired, but one of the weights pulling you down has just been cut and it’s a little easier.  _Tom_ , angry, sad, happy, whatever, makes it easier.

“Eighteen, goin’ to this spot outa London. She had this thing with the country, ya know? Fireflies were like her favorite thing on the planet. Bugs.” Tom chuckled softly as a hand ran through his hair. “‘Course, it was winter so they weren’t out but it was somewhere we’d go all the time in summer. Field would fill with thousands of ‘em. She thought I was out of my fuckin’ mind to take her there when it’s freezing but, I, uh,” Tom pauses for a minute, gathering himself. “I wanted to promise her that I loved her so I was gonna do the really cliche thing and give her a promise ring, just until we were….older.” Tom says, and it’s getting harder for him to think clearly, flashes of that fateful day playing in front of him like an old movie.

You close the distance between you. sensing his hesitance and urge to back out of telling you the story. You’re not nearly as broken as he is. At least you had warning that Alex would die, Tom, he didn’t. One second, she’s breathing and the next, she’s not. You got to have a little bit of warning. So, you sit with your legs crossed, facing him. Your knees touch his shin of the leg he has pulled up and you take his hand. But, you don’t interlock your fingers with his, instead, you run your thumbs over the top of his hand, letting him know you’re there even if he’s pissed at you.

He looks at you and then to your hand, the gesture calming the parts of him that are hurt and he continues. “We never made it. There was a truck and they didn’t see us and they hit on her side.” Tom shakes his head softly, loose curls falling in front of his face. “I was knocked unconscious,” He takes a deep breath with the word. “Woke up and saw her. She was half in the car, half out of the windshield, just…staring at me. Blood, everywhere.” Tom clears his throat, gritting his teeth. “I was stuck. The impact sent us into a guardrail, hit on my side and lodged the door. My leg was stuck and I couldn’t help her. She was….already, uh, ya know? But I tried and there were paramedics and cops and firefighters just everywhere.” Tom takes in a deep breath, his voice starting to shake. “It’s kind of fuzzy there but I remember her staring at me, just…staring like I did it to her. My bright idea.” He shakes his head, and swallows hard. “That’s what happened.” Tom doesn’t give any more details as he keeps himself from breaking down.

You don’t push, instead, you take the reins of the conversation. “I was fifteen and diagnosed. When you get diagnosed with something that might be a death sentence, they tend to want you to go to a support group.” You rol your eyes. “Not against them or anything and it was nice at first but I think…I don’t think it helped much because you’re in a group of other people about your age and you’re all going to die which death is the one guarantee everyone has but our time is getting cut short by some bs. So, you’re stuck with these people your own age who are gonna die and you don’t think it’s real because death isn’t real until it’s real.” You ramble, looking to Tom’s hand as you move to play with his fingers. “So, it’s kind of screwed up because we get to know each other just for people to drop like flies.”

Tom cocks a brow, shocked by your word choice. “Morbid.” He says.

“It’s true though.” You whisper, letting go of your optimism for a few minutes. “It is.”

“Sounds like it, ya.” Tom agrees and it’s his turn to take your hand and rub circles with his thumb.

“Yeah, so uh, there was a boy named Alex and he had the same type of cardiomyopathy as me but his was worse, ya know?” Tom nods, sad eyes watching you. “We kind of had this thing and dated and then I was nineteen, almost twenty, and it’s Christmas Eve and I’m at lunch with my parents and my phone rings. I usually don’t answer if we’re eating together, like for holidays and stuff, but I did and it was Alex’s mom. His heart was failing and they put him on a ventilator. They gave him twelve hours and ten hours passed. Not the full twelve, no heart ever came and then he died.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, fear and sadness trickling into your bloodstream. “I was there. All ten hours I was there. And then he died.”

“That’s not fair,” Tom says, voice empathetic and broken.

You shake your head. “No, it’s not.”

“That why you didn’t want this?” Tom asks, his eyes searching for answers.

You nod slowly. “I wish I had known and was given the choice. Death wasn’t real until he died. I didn’t want you to have to watch me die.”

“Been through it once.” Tom mutters.

“You shouldn’t have to go through it again.”

Tom licks his lips, looking away from you. You’re right. He shouldn’t have to watch his first love die and then his second. That’s not even remotely fair and of course, life isn’t fucking fair but, this, this is just cruel. Death is life’s cruelest punishment. And Tom doesn’t know if he could handle watching you die but he knows for a fact that he can’t handle not being with you.

He’s pissed off at you but that’s what happens. People get pissed and they yell and rant and rave and then they apologize and talk it out. They sort it out and make up. That’s what people do when they love each other. He’ll do whatever he can to spend his time with you. He’s scared but he’s been scared the entire time, it’s like jumping out of a plane and the parachute he was using was fine, and now, now it might fail and he might plummet. But, he’s in mid-air, now that he’s enjoyed the view and the feeling of breathless and weightlessness, and there’s no turning back, it’s worth the risk and he might as well enjoy the free-fall while he can.

“Nope,” Tom says and he takes his hands away from yours, moving them cautiously to your face. “I love you anyway and you piss me off so fuckin’ much.” Tom’s eyes widen but not with anger or annoyance. “But, you’re not gonna die. You’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you even if I’m an asshole to you and you’re a bitch to me.”

You can’t help but laugh at Tom’s words. “That’s nice, Tom.”

“Tellin’ me you weren’t just being a bitch and I wasn’t just being an utter prick to you?”

“No, you’re right.” A smile tugs are your lips and you can’t help it.

“Alright then. I’m sorry.” Tom’s soft smile vanishes with his words. “For what I did to you and for this.”

“Me, too. I’m _really, really_ , sorry, Tom.” You say, your eyes soft and your smile gone.

“I promise to try and tell you more.”

“I promise I’ll tell you if things get worse.”

Tom nods and his thumbs rub softly over your cheekbones. “Alright if I kiss you now? Uh, put this behind us?”

You answer by closing the distance between you and place a gentle kiss to his lips. They’re chapped just as they always are but he still tastes like winter and winter is the warmest season there is with him. You melt into him and your heart is heavy with the weight of your loss and the weight of the possible impending doom, but he’s like home.

Tom pulls away suddenly, as if he got an idea. “Got a bucket list?” He asks, ready to forget the all too heavy conversation that was just had.

“I’m not calling it a bucket list, bucket list yes.” You raise a brow, wondering where he’s headed.

Tom’s hands drop as he cocks his head to the left and squints his eyes, trying to map out what on earth you meant. “Not calling it a bucket list,  _bucket list_?”

“Yeah, bucket list is for people who are dying and we’ve already said I’m not gonna die so it’s not a bucket list.”

Tom blinks for a few seconds before he starts. “You’re a dork.”

“Mhm,” You hum. “I know.”

Tom shakes his head. “Okay, what’s on your not calling it a bucket list, bucket list?”

You smirk. “Uh,”

“If you say get a tattoo-”

“Shut up,” You scold. “Yes it’s on there but no,” You giggle. “You don’t get to laugh.”

“Okay.” Tom agrees but there’s a grin playing at his lips telling you he’ll laugh no matter what.

“I want to have a kiss int he rain, like the movies.”

“And I’m the cliche.” Tom retorts.

“That’s why you can’t laugh.”

“Go on.” Tom says, licking his lips as he tries to hide the need to laugh.

“Hmmm, I really want a cat.”

Tom groans, scrunching his face. “A cat? Really?”

“Cats are great!” You defend.

“They’re evil!” Tom yells. “They’re mean!”

“Maybe they’re mean to you because you call them evil!” You mock.

“How does that even count as a bucket list thing?”

“It’s not a bucket list.” You shrug, biting your lip to try and keep yourself from laughing.

“That right, smartass?” Tom grabs your sides and you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Tom!” You squeal as he continues to tickle your side.

Your laugh bounces off the walls and no one would ever know you were just screaming and crying less than an hour before. That’s the thing when people love each other. It’s easy to fall back into place. Puzzle pieces are meant to connect and when people love each other, they connect like a giant puzzle. Sometimes, they get knocked out of place and they fall away, have to fight their way back to each other and sometimes even get lost along the way, but they always come back to each other. A magnetic puzzle.

You squeeze just above Tom’s knee and he let out a laugh, followed by a laugh, his grip letting you go. “What the fuck?”

“Ticklish?” You challenge.

“How’d you know?” Tom narrows his eyes.

“Lucky guess.” You smile wide.

Tom rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his lips. His eyes look away but the playful smile stays as he goes back to tickle you again.

“Tommy!” You use his nickname and he freezes, playful smile turning into one of adornment. “What?” You asks, positive that look he gives you will keep your heart beating for a thousand years.

“Anyone else ever calls me that, I’ll beat the fuck out of ‘em.”

Your cheeks heat up with his words. “I must be special.”

Tom licks his lips before his hands grip your hips and pulls you into his lap to straddle him. “Yeah, you are.” The words are sincere instead of sarcastic and joking. “Alright, what else?” Tom asks, his thumbs rubbing over your hips softly.

“I’ve never manicure so that’d be fun.”

Tom rests his head forehead again your shoulder, shaking it. “Manicure, on your not a bucket list.”

“Hey, don’t judge.” You say.

“Not,” Tom says, chuckling as he looks back to you. “Continue.”

“I want to have a novel published.”

“That’s a good one.” Tom says softly.

“Yeah,” You move your hands to his necklace, Tom watching your movements.

“Dad’s a writer.” Tom says.

“He is?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah, write articles and such.”

“How ironic.”

Tom is silent for a few seconds. “Yeah,” The word fall softly. “So, like…can you see your pacemaker? Does it feel weird?”

“Oh, back to the medical talk.” You mock.

“Curious.” Tom defends with the shrug of one shoulder and the squeeze of your hips.

“Here.” You pull down the fabric of your hoodie and your shirt, showing where there’s a bulge coming from under the skin on the left side of your chest. “Like, I don’t know? I know it’s there but it doesn’t feel super weird I guess.”

“So weird.” Tom says, he looks up to you with fascination. “Can you still do everything you could before?”

You shrug a shoulder. “They want me to take it easy, not overwork myself but yeah pretty much.” You smile and move your hands to his sides. “Why?”

“Just want to make sure.” Tom says. “Promise.” There’s something lingering in his voice and before you can ask what it is, Tom speaks up. “Wasn’t because we-”

“No!” You shake your head quickly, cutting him off. “Just happened, no cause other than I have a crappy heart. Was kind of weird to have to actually disclose sexual history suddenly though.”

“You’re welcome.” Tom smirks.

“Thanks,” You widen your eyes before rolling them. “So, my turn. About Monica.”

“She’s a horrible fuckin’ twat is what she is.” Tom says without hesitation.

“Gathered, what happened? Harrison told me most but didn’t really explain much about how you guys broke into her house or anything?”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs. “Gave her this locket that was my mum’s, ya know? Lookin’ back I know it was dumb cause she was horrible even before everything. Don’t tell Harrison, but I really should listen to him more.” Tom winces with the statement. “But, ya know…she was…ya know…I wasn’t ready.” Tom trails off, hinting towards Monica being the first girl since Elena. “She wouldn’t give it back so we broke into her place, forgot about her damn cameras so her boyfriend wanted my head for it. She wasn’t home and we didn’t fuck anything up, grabbed the necklace and left. Swear.” Tom says, honesty in every word. “But, he’s a prick, so.”

“I don’t like her.” You state.

“Yeah, I’d hope not.” Tom remarks.

“But you got it back and that’s over with.” You say.

“Yeah, learned a lesson.”

“You deserve better, anyway.” You say.

Tom shakes his head. “You deserve better.” Tom moves his hand to the center of your chest and taps softly.

“I’d like to think you’re better.” You whisper.

Tom’s eyes lock with yours and people don’t tell him that. Harrison stands by him and his family is disappointed in him for how he’s handled situations since Elena but they stand by him and they love him. But, that’s different than someone, someone new telling him that he’s better. He’s deserving of something good and he’s  _better_.

His arms move and wrap around you, pulling you flush against him. “Thanks.” He says lowly, sincerity in the word.

“Thanks for being here.” You whisper back, your breath warm against his lips.

“Won’t go anywhere.” Tom whispers, his lips brushing against yours until he closes the distance.

Soft and safe.


	20. not a bucket list, bucket list

The rest of night had gone by and the air still weighed a little heavy with the weight of the fight and the hard truths. It was a lot and both of you felt like you could breathe with ease again but the air was still heavy, something that would only return to normal after the two of you separated for a night again and let everything sink in.

And that’s what you did.

You went home a few hours later and made yourself ready for bed while Tom remained home, distracting himself with calling Harrison. He needed to get the annoyance of his best friend telling his story off his chest but he also owed Harrison a very big thank you because had he not, him and you wouldn't be talking.

“You had no bloody right.” Tom mumbles.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t going to say anything and someone had to.” Harrison sighs.

“Still shouldn’t have done it.”

“A little late now but seemed to work out alright.” Harison quips.

“Yeah, kind of.” Tom agrees reluctantly. “Guess I owe you a thank you.”

Harrison laughs on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah you do.”

“Thanks, mate.” Tom says, the annoyance and reluctance gone from his voice.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Harrison says. “So, what happens now?”

“Dunno.” Tom shrugs, searching his cabinets for something to eat. “What if she dies?”

“What if she doesn’t?” Harrison challenges.

“But what if she does?” Tom argues.

“Then, you deal with you it.” Harrison shrugs. “But, don’t focus on it, I’m beggin’ you.”

“Hard not to.” Tom shakes his head, trying to push the thought of your words from his head.

“You gonna run?”

“Nah,” Tom says softly. “Not gonna run.”

“Good.” Harrison says. “So, just go on like you two were.”

“I don’t think we can.” Tom says, his voice almost a whisper. “Not, in a bad way, just, dunno worried now.”

“You were worried before.” Harrison points out.

“Different.” Tom states. “Kind of have this idea but I think it’s a little...I dunno cheesy.”

Harrison scuffs. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Yeah,” Tom nearly whines before a chuckle falls from his mouth. “But she’s different.”

“Well, what’s your idea?”

“She doesn’t have a bucket list, kind of, but she still has things she wants to do, ya know?”

“So, you want to do some of those with her in case she dies?” Harrison questions, filling in the blanks.

“Yeah, too cheesy?”

“For everyone else, yes but not for you and I think she’d probably like it.” Harrison encourages.

“Think so?”

“Just do it.” Harrison groans.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Tom chuckles.

The boys end their call and Tom sends a text to you. It’s late and he knows you’ll get it in the morning but now his blood is coursing with excited anxiety. He’s terrified he’ll get the call in the middle of the night or sirens will wake him from his sleep one night. He’s scared but if he’s learned anything from you, he can’t live in fear of what might happen, even if the odds of that terrible thing happening are high. It’s cheesy and cliche but he wants to make sure that if you don’t get your heart, at least you can do some of the things on your Not A Bucket List.

Your phone buzzed repeatedly on your nightstand, waking you up. You grabbed your phone and squinted at the screen that’s too bright. All you can see on the messages is a T and an H, allowing you to know it had to be Tom. You didn’t bother reading the messages, before just clicking the call option. The phone pressed to your ear as your eyes closed, exhausted and wanting to go back to sleep.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Tom answers, surprise in his voice.

“Your messages woke me up.” Your voice is scratchy with sleep. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tom says quickly. “Sorry for waking you, love.”

“It’s okay.” You say softly, sleep wanting to pull you back in.

“Aye, I need a list of everything you can think of on your Not A Bucket List, bucket list.” Tom says.

“What?”

“Trust me.” Tom urges.

“It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah…” Tom says quietly. “Just, sometime later today.”

“Why though?”

“Trust me.” Tom repeats.

“Only if you stop calling it a Not A Bucket List, bucket list.” You laugh softly. “Adding bucket list at the end defeats the purpose of it not being a bucket list.”

“Okay.” Tom agrees, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back to sleep then...okay?”

“Yeah, sorry for waking you.” Tom’s voice is drenched in sincerity.

“It’s okay. Goodnight and I love you.” You smile softly.

“Love you.” Tom whispers before you hang up.

There’s a smile gracing your face as you fall back asleep. Sure, it was random and a bit weird and it woke you up but Tom sounded excited and happy. You couldn’t be mad about him waking you up if you tried. He might not be telling you what he’s planning but it’s obvious as to why he would want a list and your heart can’t help but flutter. He really is cheesy.

The next morning came around and you woke up with a vague memory of your phone call with Tom. It only made you laugh as you got ready for your day back at the shop. Your first day back, also means you going to Tom’s door and seeing if he wanted to get back to going to together. Tom opened the door, looking tired but happy at the sight of you.

“‘Morning, darlin.” Tom greeted, allowing you inside.

“Good morning.” You chimed. “Going together?” You ask.

“Yeah, ‘bout ready.” Tom says as he slides on his shoes.

“Did you really ask me to make a list for you last night?” You question.

Tom laughs. “Yeah, I did.”

“Are you going to tell me why?” You ask.

“Think you can figure it out.” Tom remarks, a smirk on his face as he stands back up.

You shake your head. “I’m not dying.” You press.

“So?” Tom says. “Why aren’t ya doing the things on our list then? Not dyin’ so why don’t you start living like you are.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying something like that?” You change your tone with a gentle smile.

Tom closes the small gap between the two of you, snaking his arm gently around your waist. “Guess you’re rubbin’ off on me.” Tom suggests.

“Finally.” You roll your eyes.

Tom laughs before pulling you closer to him and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Better go before we’re late.” Tom suggests.

“When do you need the list?” You ask, pulling away from him and heading towards the door.

“Today, preferably.”

“Not wasting anytime.” You says as Tom locks his door.

His shoulders shrug softly. “Why not?” Tom’s head is held high with his question.

“Okay.” You agree, touches of confusion in your voice.

Harrison warned you that he would run but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to, in fact, he seems okay. Tom sees way too okay for your own comfort and you’re afraid this is just the calm before the storm. But, you don’t want to worry about it. You want to hope that maybe he’s just like this because he finally got a ton off of his chest and you’re talking again, there are no more secrets between the two of you. It’s all just a bit weird to see Tom so happy and chirper.

At work, your dad is happy to have you back and you take your place at the register after you and Tom clock in. You open your laptop and work on a list for Tom. While typing, you peak up at him, watching him organize and interact with Frankie then with a few customs that come in. It’s like the first day he started. It’s still a little shocking to you that only a few months ago, Tom was swearing under his breath, hating everything and now he actually enjoys working here. He enjoys talking to customers and the work this job entails. You glance at your screen, and cross one of the things off of your list before going back to writing the list.

The day came to a close quickly and Tom was sitting in the driver's seat of his car, his fingers interlocked with yours as his thumb on the other hand tapped the steering wheel. Your attention was focused out of the window, rain starting to pelt the car and thunder rolling across the sky.

“So,” You start. “This new happy, chipper attitude is great, but...why?”

Tom glances to you and his heart sinks, knowing he can’t lie to you. “Happy with you.” He says lowly. “Scared so, just, trying to be a bit more optimistic.”

You stare at him, taking in his sharp jawline thanks to his clenched teeth. “No need to be scared, Tommy.” You say.

“Are you scared?” Tom asks, his hand squeezing yours.

“No,” You say simply. “You get scared for a little bit but then you just accept it and it’s not scary anymore. Scared of what will happen to you if it happens, yes.”

Tom glances to you but just for a split second, his breath catching in his throat. He’s terrified of death and maybe it’s because he’s seen it and he’s been close but you’re just so content with it. You’ve simply accepted it and it’s not scary anymore, your life being ripped away from you before you could do anything, make something of yourself, none of it. But, you’re afraid of what will happen to Tom if you die. You’re afraid of something you have no control over now or even after if you die. Your sole concern is Tom.

“No more secrets, right?” Tom questions and you hum in response. “It’d be fuckin’ horrible.” Tom’s voice hardens. “And, fuck, if you die, I’m going to lose my fuckin’ mind.” You hang your head, regret of telling him starting to sink in. “But, uh, I-I think I’d go back to London and,” Tom pauses. “Yeah, I’d run it’s what I do. But I’d run home and Haz would come and,” He licks his lips, as if everything he’s saying is hard for him to admit. “I dunno, I’d make sure I’d stay like this because I didn’t like who I was four months ago but I like who I am now. I like who you make me.” His eyes look over to you and right back to the road.

A sad smile tugs at one side of your mouth. “I love who you are today.” You whisper. “I’m not gonna die but I had to ask.”

“I know.” He says, his voice not nearly as convincing as yours but he’s going to agree with you.

Tom parks the car in his usual spot and kills the engine but doesn’t unlock the doors. You raise your brows, wondering what could possibly be going through that scattered brain of his now.

“Got your list?”

“Yeah, I was going to add you to the document later. Why?”

“Can I see it?” Tom asks, his eyes bright, contradicting the darkness surrounding you thanks to the storm.

You raise your brow and widen your eyes with a questioning expression but dig out your phone from your pocket. You open the driver and pull up the document before handing it to Tom. You watch him, his face illuminated by your phone screen while he reads things over.

  * “Have a kiss in the rain
  * Own a cat
  * Get a tattoo
  * Go to Disneyworld
  * Make a difference
  * Have a novel published
  * Spend the entire day baking
  * Try sushi
  * Ride in a hot air balloon
  * Visit another country
  * Get a manicure
  * Go to a nightclub
  * ~~Make a difference~~ …”



The first one catches his eye because talk about perfect timing but the one crossed outdraws his attention, making him stop reading the list and look at you. “Make a difference? You’ve crossed that one out?”

“Yeah,” You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I was writing but then I saw how you were with Frankie and the customers and how you actually enjoy working now. I had already written it down without realizing that I did make a difference...with you.” You bite your lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. “And now you've just, ya know, confirmed it.”

Tom’s cheeks turn bright red and an uncontrollable smile splits his face. “Here.” He hands you back your phone. “Out of the car but don’t run inside.”

“Oh, you’re really gonna do this?” You laugh.

“Yeah!” Tom yells, opening his door, rain starting to blow into the car.

“We’re going to get sick!” You yell over the rain.

“So?” Tom challenges, leaning over you and opening your door. “I’ll buy you soup!” Tom moves away from you, exiting out of his side of the car.

The door shuts and you see him through the droplets of rain pouring onto the windshield. He’s a little out of his mind but he’s determined to make sure it’s all worth it. Everything that’s brought you two together is worth it, you get everything you’ve ever wanted and deserved. You sigh, leaving your things in the car so they wouldn’t get wet before exiting out of your side.

“You’re crazy!” You yell over the thunder.

“This is your list! I can do without a kiss in the rain, love!” Tom closes the distance between you, his hair and clothing completely soaked already.

“Then kiss me al-”

Tom cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and pulling you into a rough kiss. Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes flutter closed. You pull him closer to you as Tom’s tongue swipes your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your mouths move in sync as one, never missing a beat or even caring that the rain is getting worse. Lightning strikes above you and thunder rolls like the heavens are crumbling down but you’re lost in each other. Lost in the moment and the taste of the contrasting seasons.

Tom pulls away, his chest heaving as he rests his forehead on yours. “Two down.”

“Lots to go.” Your words being swallowed by the rain.

You grab your things from Tom’s car and go to his apartment, Tom loaning you clothes as to no surprise to you. The two of you get blankets and pillows, making yourselves warm in the living room after being in the cold rain. But, you don’t sit together, exactly. Tom sits on the floor and you behind him on the couch, a brush in hand to brush out the knots that have formed from the rain and the soaked hair gel.

“Think your dad will miss you at work tomorrow?” Tom asks, your phone in his hands as he keeps reading your list.

“Probably not, why?” You ask.

Tom holds your phone up, shaking it softly. “Gotta list we gotta get through.”

“And what exactly do you plan on having us do tomorrow?” You question, sarcasm laced in your voice.

Tom starts turning around, you moving the brush so he doesn’t smack himself in the head. “That, Love, is a surprise.” Tom smirks, wiggling his brows.

“That is not convincing.”

“But you’re gonna do it anyway.” Tom points at you.

“You’re kind of hard to say no to.” You say softly.

“Know the struggle.” Tom flicks your knee.

“Hey!” You glare at him.

“Just bein’ honest.”

“Okay.” You agree. “Now, turn back around. You have a lot of hair.”

Tom shakes his head, a few droplets of leftover water splattering you, making Tom burst into a fit of laughter. “Switch.” He says, between laughs, getting up from the floor.

You roll your eyes but do as he says. Tom takes your seat and you take his. Tom removes the towel from your head, allowing your damp hair to fall down in a tackled mess. Tom starts with running his fingers through your hair, making sure not to force any knots out and staying gentle. Your eyes close and you swear you could fall asleep just like that.

You stay the night with Tom and call your dad first thing in the morning, who is actually very okay with you spending the day with Tom. After everything, your dad might not care for Tom, but Tom is growing on him and when you told him  _ why _ you wanted to hang out with Tom, your dad was more than happy to allow you the day off.

People leave. When people get sick, people leave because it’s hard on them. It’s hard to watch their friend or family slowly deteriorate and it’s hard to keep up with the medical speak and all of the stuff that comes along with it. The cautiousness that sometimes has to take place is just a little much sometimes and while you’ve been fine, your friends still found it a little hard. It wasn’t just them, though. After Alex, you seemed to kind of give up on really trying to live and friends want to live. They live like they’re dying every day but you stopped doing that but Tom walks in and now he’s making you live like you might die. The reality is that you might so you might as well be happy and do the things you haven’t done yet. Your dad is thankful for Tom.

“Okay, today, we bake but I have no fuckin’ clue how so I’ll just be watching.” Tom grins as the two of you arrive at the grocery store.

“Well, that doesn’t sound fair.” You state as Tom gets a cart.

“I’ll screw up…” Tom pauses, looking to you. “Okay, what are you baking?”

“I don’t know!” You laugh, bumping his hip with yours. “You just told me to get in the car and you haven’t told me anything so I didn’t bother asking.”

“Bad planning.” Tom states, realizing he needed to actually give you a few details. “What d’ya want to bake?”

“Cookies, duh.” You move away from him, leading him to the baking aisle.

“Oh, yeah, duh, should have known.” Tom quips, you laughing in front of him.

“You asked.” You shrug. “Should bake a cake, my dad likes chocolate.”

“Okay.” Tom nods. “Gonna get a box?” He looks at the boxes of cake mix lining the shelving.

You turn to look at him, your expression appalled. “No! Scratch! It’s better.”

“You take this seriously.” Tom chuckles, shaking his head.

“Do you want cookies, Tom?”

“Yes, please.” Tom says innocently.

“Okay, then.” You look to your phone, pulling up your mom’s number. You ask your mom for a family recipe for sugar cookies and the chocolate cake she always makes for your dad.

Your mom texts you the recipes and it’s a scavenger hunt for you and Tom to locate all of the ingredients. You have to teach Tom which things are good off-brand and which ones need to be name brand. He thinks you’re a little obsessive but you’re adorable and passionate about it. You’re determined that if you’re going to spend the day baking with Tom, it’s gonna be well worth it and he’ll be able to bake cookies and a cake by himself come the end of the night.

You finish your shopping and head back to your apartment, laying out all of the ingredients on the counter. You direct Tom to preheat the oven while you separate what you need for the cookies and the cake, setting the stuff for the cookies off to the side first.

“Thought we were bakin’ the cookies first?” Tom questions.

“Cake has to be frosted and you have to let it cool. So, we should have that done first.”

“If you know how to bake and it’s something you’ve clearly done plenty of times, why’s it on your list?” Tom raises a brow, looking over the receipt displayed on your phone.

“Because,” You shrug a shoulder. “I’ve never spent my entire day baking before and I like to bake so if I’m gonna die, I want to be able to just spend a day baking food.”

“Alright.” Tom gives you a soft smile. “What do we do then?” The soft smile turns playful with his words.

You had Tom start greasing the pans while you started measuring out the flour. Tom greased the pans and you had him crack the eggs. Tom smirked, pride etched across his face as if he was sure you doubted his ability to crack an egg. All you could do was laugh and have him turn on the mixer, knowing full well it’d come back to bite him. And sure enough, it did. He turned on the mixer a little too high and the powered ingredients splattered over him as you took a few steps, laughing.

“Think that’s funny, do ya?” Tom questions.

“Yes.” You continue to laugh but Tom narrows his eyes. “You shouldn’t have gotten cocky about the eggs.” You tease.

“No?” Tom questions, moving towards the open bag of flour. “I dunno, love, I did a good job.” He grabs the flour and you stop your laughter.

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m not doin’ anything!” Tom yells back, a sinister smirk tugging at his lips as he walks over to you.

“You’re going to make a mess.” You urge, backing away from him.

“If I’m a mess, you’re a mess.” Tom shrugs, moving quickly to you and pulling you into him, dumping a quarter of the bag of flour over your head.

“Tom!” You yell, shaking your head as he lets you go, his laugh consuming the room. “That’s not even fair!”

“Isn’t it?” Tom mocks, eyes widen and teasing.

“No!” You scold, brushing past him and back to the counter, grabbing the cocoa powder. “This is.” You jerk the open container at Tom, getting his face covered in powder.

His eyes are closed as he sucks on his teeth. “Fuck it.” Tom brushes the powder from his face and makes a move towards you.

He holds you close to him and shakes her head, powder going all over your face. You struggle to get free, breathless laughs escaping your lips before Tom reaches behind you, grabbing an egg from the carton. He holds in front of you, eyes daring.

“Tom,” Your eyes widen. “Don’t.”

“Hmm,” Tom hums. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Your eyes flicker between Tom’s and the egg. The last thing you want to do is have to clean egg out of your hair. It’s a complete mess but you know the devilish look in Tom’s eyes, he’s not kidding. He’s going to slam that egg o top of your head. So, you give him a soft smile before quickly moving your hands to his face and pulling him for a kiss. Tom’s grip on your hip tightened as a low groan came from his throat. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and the hand holding the egg lowered.

You bit his bottom lip, pulling away. “Truce?”

Tom shakes his head but his eyes are soft. “Yeah, alright, truce.” He puts the egg down and you stick your hand out to shake his. Tom cocks a brow and shakes his head, before pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“You just sealed...this...with a kiss. You really are a cliche.” You tease.

“We’re baking and completing things on your Not A Bucket List, don’t think you’re much better, dalrin’.”

“Didn’t say I was.” You stick your nose up, getting out of Tom’s grasp to go back to the mixer.

The two of you go on to finish up baking the cake, only taking short breaks to make sure one of you wasn’t going to attack the other with any of the ingredients. Once the cake was in the oven, you started working on the cookie dough, sharing one of your family recipes with him. It means a lot to you seeing as they were cookies you always made with your mom, but it was worth sharing this moment with Tom.

However, you did end up in another ingredient war while cutting out the cookies so, by the time the cookies were out of the oven, Tom was cheekily suggesting a shower. He didn’t actually think you'd take him seriously, but you did. With the shrug of a shoulder and a sudden wave of confidence, you encouraged him to follow you to the bathroom.

You turned on the water and got two washrags while Tom grabbed a few towels. Once everything was ready, you stood in front of each other, waiting for one of you to start removing your clothes first. So, Tom took the hem of your shirt in his fingers, slowly pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor, remains of flour and cocoa powder dusting to the bathroom floor. You took the hem of his shirt and allow it to fall to the floor. Your eyes taking in his toned stomach and an uncontrollable smile creeps onto your lips. 

“Sure you don’t want a picture, love?” Tom quips, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No.” Your cheeks heat up as you look up to him.

Tom’s chuckle echoes through the bathroom and above the falling water. “If you’re sure.” Tom’s voice is tempting as he reaches around you and unhooks your bra.

“I’m sure.” You whisper allowing the fabric to fall to the floor. Tom’s eyes moving to your breasts and back to your eyes. “You sure you don’t want a picture?”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Tom’s voice etches in sarcasm.

“You are seducable so…” You state. Tom’s jaw drops and you laugh, closing the distance between the two of you and pulling Tom in for a kiss.

“Mm, ya, you’re right.” Tom whispers against your lips.

A giggle falls from your lips as you work on the button and zipper of his pants, slowly tugging them down with his boxer briefs. Tom follows your lead and strips you of your pants and underwear.

“Shower’s probably good.” You state, feeling a little exposed with it only being your second time naked in front of Tom.

“You first.” Tom jerks his head towards the shower and you walk over.

You pull the curtain open, stepping inside and allowing the warm water to fall over your back, wetting your hair as Tom steps in. His eyes scan you up and down, his heart picking up and the smallest knot forming in his stomach just by the sight of you. His arm goes around your waist and pulls you flush against him.

“You’re beautiful, ya know?” Tom whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your neck.

Your cheeks heat up as you tilt your head to give him more access. “Mhm.” You hum, your eyes closed and a snicker coming from Tom’s lips. “Thought we were just gonna shower?”

“We are.” Tom whispers, pulling away. “We’re in the shower.” A devilish smirk splits his face as his thumbs lightly rub your hips.

“Fair.” You grin, sliding a hand to the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to yours.

Tom’s hands slide to your ass, squeezing and a soft yelp falls from your lips as you push into him. Tom chuckles, his mouth not leaving yours. You retaliate by biting his bottom lip and moving to trail sloppy kisses down to his neck, making sure to suck a mark to his neck that would be there for the next week.

Tom allows one of his hands to move to your front, trailing his fingers delicately against your hip before moving between your legs. His fingers avoid your core, moving to just your inner thigh. Warmth spreads through your body with anticipation. Tom’s fingers continue the slow movements until you pull away from his neck, kissing around his collarbones. One of tom’s fingers slides across your folds and an involuntary whimper escapes your mouth, your hips slightly bucking forward.

“Thought we were here to shower, darlin’?” Tom quips, a lustful grin on his face as you look up to him.

“Shut up.” Your face heats with embarrassment, pressing your forehead to his chest.

Your hand goes to Tom’s dick, softly gripping him and pumping. His head falls into your neck as a gasp leaves him.

“Thought we were here to shower, Tommy?” You mock.

Tom looks back to you, eyes dark before his lips collide with yours. He inserts one finger between your folds, sneaking his tongue into your mouth when you gasp. Your movements become quicker and harder as Tom inserts a second finger, curling them both inside of you and pumping quickly. The palm of his hand is hitting your clit at a steady rhythm while you move your hips to try and get more friction. A coil starts building in your stomach and your walls start to clench around Tom’s fingers. Tom smirks against your lips before pulling his fingers out and pushing you against the wall of the shower.

“You’re on the pill, ya?” Tom asks as you remove your hand from his dick, watching the water hit his back and droplets fall down his toned skin.

A shy smile crosses your face. “Mhm.”

“Then if it’s okay with you,” Tom gives you a husky whisper, pressing a kiss below your ear. “Thinkin’ we just fuck right here.” He continues to press gentle kisses back to your mouth before pulling away, you nearly melting at the sight.

“Please.” Your plea is breathy.

Tom hikes your leg up around his hip while you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He teases your folds with his tip before slowly sliding in. The both of you let out gasps, foreheads pressing against each other’s. Tom’s eyes flicker to yours, his heart stopping in his chest for just a second as he pulls out and thrusts back in. You moan, eyes falling shut. Tom speeds up his movements and your hand goes down to your clit. Soon enough, your walls start clenching around him as your moans mix with his and bounce from the tiled walls.

“T-tom.” You stutter out a whimpered, breathless moan.

“Come on, Love.” Tom encourages, quickening his pace.

You yell out Tom’s name as your orgasm overtakes you, your legs starting to shake as you bite down on his shoulder. A few seconds later, Tom’s pulling out and dropping your leg just in time for his cum to land on your hip. Your chests heave as you’re held together. You start to softly giggle as you catch your breath.

“I see why you have a lot of sex now.”

Tom closes his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs into your neck. “Yeah, not so bad.” Tom looks back to you and kisses your lips.

“But,” You start. “We really should actually shower.”

“Yeah,” Tom nods. “We really should.” Tom says as he reaches over and grabs a washrag. “I’ll get your back.”

You nod softly as Tom steps away and allows you into the water. Tom washes your back and you wash his, both of you making sure to stay gentle while also enjoying the feel of each other beneath the washrags and admiring each other under the water. Tom lingers a little more against your chest, eyes looking over your scar, healing cut, and the bulge that’s keeping your heart beating correctly. He takes extra care with those things and makes sure your comfortable.

Once you’re washed, Tom’s first to start with shampoo but only for him to have you turn away from him and let him wash your hair. His fingers are strong but delicate as he works the shampoo into your hair and scalp, your eyes closing with the sensation. He helps you wash out the shampoo before you switch places and help Tom wash his hair.

It was something completely new to the both of you. Tom’s had shower sex before, plenty of times in fact, but not like that. It was similar to his and yours one other time together, gentle but still getting to the point. There’s actual feelings involved and it’s not just about getting off anymore but it’s about you and how you feel. There’s love and kindness between the lust. And for you, it’s just something you never expected.

Sex can be awkward and scary even after the first time of having sex with someone. It sometimes takes ten times until people are comfortable with each other, comfortable enough to have sex in other places besides the bedroom and you, being more on the modest side, should have felt uncomfortable. But, you didn't.

Tom is comfortable and you can tell by his soft touches and gentle kisses that it’s not about the sex. And, showering with someone is on a whole new level of intimacy and yet, there was no awkward tension or stillness in the air, just the two of you. It was gentle and intimate and you hope to the universe you have more moments like these with Tom.

Now, you’re all dressed and laying on the couch. Tom luckily has loaned you so many articles of clothing, he didn’t have to go home for a pair of sweats and you’re comfortable in your own pajamas with the hoodie Tom originally loaned you. Your head is in his lap as the final season of Lost plays and his hand is brushing through the nearly dry tangles of your hair. He glances down at you and he’s so in love with you his heart could burst from his chest. You’re focused on the screen with one hand resting on his knee and you’re perfect. And Tom can’t help but wonder what his family would really think of you.

“Aye,” Tom starts. “You have a passport?”

  
  



	21. london lights

“A passport?” You furrow your brows, moving your head to look up to him.

“Mhm, passport. Little booklet that lets you travel between countries.” A side smirk crosses Tom’s lips with his explanation.

You roll your eyes as you roll onto your back, not moving your head from his lap. “I know.” Your eyes widen. “Yes I have one but why?”

Tom moves his hand to yours and starts fiddling with your fingers. He bites the inside of his cheek as his hands start to grow clammy with nerves. It was a little bit of impulse ask. No one really meets his family anymore, mostly because he’s in a different country but also because people just leave. The closest anyone got to meeting Monica was a facetime call and she happened to just be around at the time and interjected herself into the conversation. Seeing as Tom doesn’t talk to his family as much as he used to, his mom wasn’t fond of the interruption. But, you aren’t Monica and you’re sweet and kind.

_ You stayed. _

“Yeah,” Tom nods. “Uh, talked to your dad when we weren’t talking and planned to go to London for a week,  _ next _ week,” Tom takes in a breath as he specifies. “With Harrison. Dunno, if you could or not, but if you can and you want to, maybe you could come with.”

“To London?” You watch Tom chew his lip expressing his nervousness.

“Yeah.” Tom swallows. “If you want to, don’t have to or anything.” He shrugs a shoulder and looks to the TV.

“I have to clear it with my doctor but yeah, okay.” You blush, pulling his hand to your lips and pressing a chaste kiss to his skin.

“Really?” Tom quickly looks back to you, a huge smile splitting his face.

“I’ve never been and I’ve always wanted to.” You smile.

“You’ll be meeting my family, ya know?”

“You met mine.” You state.

“Alright, I’ll let my mum know.” Tom says, secretly ecstatic you agreed to go.

“I’ll let my dad know.” You smirk. “Good thing I never spend any money.”

“You don’t?” Tom raises a brow but not in surprise.

“I don’t want anything. I don’t need anything so I just save it.” You shrug, moving your stare back to the TV.

“That all?” Tom asks and his voice is harder than it was just seconds prior, something telling him there’s more you’re not saying.

“That’s all.” You say, turning your head to look up to him again, a soft smile decorating your face. “But, now I want to go with you so, I have something to spend it on now.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tom shakes his head, satisfied smile looking down at you as he chooses to go with your word.

You called your doctor first thing in the morning and you got permission to go, understanding the risks of you going and what happens if a heart were to be become available while you're overseas. It was a hard decision, one you’d choose not to tell Tom about but since organs are only viable for so many hours, you wouldn’t be able to make it back to the states in time to receive the heart and it would go to someone else. It’s a risk but you’ve been waiting for a heart for a long time and nothing has come. Are you supposed to wait the rest of your life trapped within a three-hour radius of the hospital? Before Tom, sure. But now, no. You want to live for a little bit.

With very little reluctance your dad gave you the next week off. The way he saw it, you were going to go no matter what he said but that’s not why he agreed. He’s been hoping you would get out and just do something. So anything instead of just going day to day. You used to do things and he misses seeing that light. You’re his daughter and you should be able to do whatever you want in your life. So, if you want to go to England with your boyfriend he might not care for, then he’s going to be happy for you. And encourage you to go despite the risks.

The week went by and soon enough, it was time to be boarding the plane for the six-hour flight to London. Harrison had booked his ticket with Tom so their seats were together but he offered his up so you could sit with Tom. In all honesty, you were relieved Harrison was coming, not that you were surprised. If Harrison was coming, it would just feel more casual since they’re friends even though they act like brothers. Truthfully, you’re just terrified of meeting Tom’s family. You’re new and what if Tom didn’t actually tell them? Or if he did, what if you’re not what they expect? What if you can’t live up to Elena? The way Harrison talked about her and said everyone loved her, you can’t help but worry you may not be what Tom’s family wants for him. Of course, Tom will do what he wants but family is important nonetheless. You want them to like you.

When you landed, two of Tom’s brother’s were at the airport to pick the three of you up. The boys all hugged and you watched the reunion from the background with a soft smile until Tom pulled away and offered a hand to you.

“The twins, Harry and Sam.” Tom points to the boys. “And this is y/n.” He looks to you with a confident smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Sam grins, offering a handshake.

“Yeah, nice to be the girl Tom won’t stop talkin’ about.” Harry quips, taking your hand next.

“Fuck off.” Tom rolls his eyes, taking your bags and piling them into the car with his luggage and Harrison’s.

“He never stops talking about you.” Harry whispers with an eye roll. “Ever.”

You giggle quietly and shakes your head. “Does he really?”

“He never shuts up at all.” Harrison states opening the back door of the car. “But, you know that already so can’t be much of a surprise.” Harrison chuckles and climbs into the car.

“For once, Haz is right.” Harry smirks making his way to the passenger side.

“I’m always right.” Harrison corrects.

“Sure ‘bout that, mate?” Harry retorts.

Harrison quips with something but your attention was back on Tom. His hand on the small of your back as he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“Could go on for hours, but they aren’t so bad. Ya get used to it.” Tom smirks and offers you to get in the car.

“If I can put up with you everyday almost all day long, I can handle your brothers and Harrison.” You smile wide and pat Tom’s chest before getting in the car.

He shakes his head after you, sucking on his teeth. You really were going to fit right in.

Harrison was being dropped off at his parents’ house saying he’d text one of the boys the following day. So, after dropping Harrison off, you were off to Tom’s parents’ house. The closer you got, the more nervous Tom got. He’s certain you really are going to fit in nicely but he also knows how his family is. They want the best for him and he might think you’re the best, he knows you are, but his family could think differently, especially given your current circumstances. It’s all too familiar. Tom’s been talking to his parents more since hanging out with you and he doesn’t know if that’ll make them judge you more or give you slack. It’s because of you, he talks to them more but maybe now that Tom’s nearly back to where he used to be, they’ll be afraid of him slipping  _ because of _ you.  _ If _ the worst happens.

You arrive at Tom’s childhood home and all of the boys help with the luggage. You insisted you could just stay at a hotel but Tom was a little more persistent than you were, saying it’s cheaper to just stay with him and his parents already offered when he’d called them. Truthfully, you wanted to stay at a hotel so you weren’t intruding but also in case things went south and they didn’t like you. But, there’s no going back now and Tom’s hand is holding yours, his grip warm and tight as you enter the home.

Tom’s dad is first to greet the boys and you. You can’t help but take notice in how relieved Tom’s dad looks. He just looks happy and the way he brings Tom in for a hug, Tom releasing your hand to hug back, he reminds you of your dad.

“Must be y/n, ya?” Tom’s dad asked.

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you.” You give him a sheepish smile, offering your hand to him.

“No need to be so formal, can call me Dom.” He chimes, shaking your hand softly.

You give him a kind smile and a soft nod. “Where’s mum?” Tom asks.

“Out in the garden.” Dom responds.

“Right, alright. I’ll show her around first then and be out.” Tom says, taking your hand back in his as he gets a bag, Harry and Sam already out of sight.

Dom nods and allows Tom to take you through the house. Tom leads you down a long hallway and up a flight of stairs to the upper floor of the house. The house is bigger than you imagined but it certainly fits the six of them just fine. It makes you wonder what his childhood was like exactly. The house is large and nice. It’s decorated beautifully and it’s just outside of London in a very nice suburban area. It’s homey, very, very homey, similar to your childhood home, but also expensive.

“Mum said we’d be staying here. It’s my old room.” Tom says, leading you into a room with a full-sized bed covered in a blue comforter.

“You’ve got a thing for blue.” You say, your eyes scanning over the rest of the room. “And grey.”

“Yeah,” Tom shrugs. “Guess I do.” He chuckles softly and rests your bags at the foot of the bed. “Nervous?”

“A little, yes.” You say softly. “What if they don’t like me?” You bite your bottom lip.

“Your dad doesn’t like me.” Tom quirks a brow.

“But you were a jerk when he met you.”

“And you’re not a jerk so you’ve nothing to worry about, love. I promise.” Tom walks over to you and snakes his arms around your waist.

“Do you really talk about me that much?” You ask shyly, looking up to him.

Tom’s cheeks turn a soft shade of red but there's a confident smirk finding its way to his face. “How do you think I know they’ll like you?” Tom kisses your forehead.

“Okay.” You say, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek.

“C’mon then, better get it over with and then you can relax.” Tom’s brows wiggle as he untangles his arms from around your waist.

The two of you go back downstairs and Tom leads you through the kitchen and out the sliding glass doors. His mom is sitting at a table with Dom while Harry and Sam are dribbling a soccer ball with the youngest Holland, you assume that one would be Paddy. Tom’s hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you towards the table.

“Aye, mum.” Tom greets.

She stands up from the table and brings Tom in for a warm hug. You notice how much Tom looks like his mom. He looks like his dad obviously, but there’s something with his mom that he truly resembles. And she’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Mum, this is y/n.” Tom pulls away and gestures a hand for you to be greeted.

“Nice to finally put a face to the girl who’s finally been puttin’ Tom in his place.” She jokes bringing you in for a quick hug.

Your cheeks burn as Tom runs a hand over his face. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Holland.” You say sweetly.

“You can call me Nikki.” She takes a seat and gestures a hand out to the two other chairs, hinting for Tom and you to take your seats. “Was your flight alright?” She asks once you’re both seated.

“Long and borin’ but yeah, ‘s alright.” Tom nods.

“How was it for you?” Nikki turns her attention to you.

“Oh, uh, yeah, no it was fine.” You say sweetly.

“That’s because you slept most the time.” Tom chuckles, flashing you a playful grin.

“I was tired.” You defend.

“Well, do either of you have a plan for the week?” Dom asks.

“Not really.” Tom admits. “Was probably just gonna show y/n ‘round for the week.”

You look to his mom and catch a glimpse of disappointment crossing her face. “Actually,” You speak up. “You should spend time with your family. I wanted to be a tourist and what better way than to go without a local.”

Tom looks at you with confusion. “You’ll get lost.”

“So be it.” You shug. “That’s part of the fun.”

Tom shakes his head. “Doesn’t like a good idea. I can take you.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I’ll see if Harrison will come then.”

Tom’s face softens and he gives you a grateful smile. “Well, alright, then.

“Tom, are you gonna sit there forever or are ya gonna play?” Harry hollers, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.

Tom looks to you with big doe eyes. “Don’t let me stop you.” You laugh.

Tom grins ear to ear before getting up and going to the grass to team up with the youngest boy leaving you alone with Tom’s parents. The air quickly thickens as it falls silent between you. You’re the first girl they’ve met since Elena and you’re certainly different from what they expected but you’re polite and kind. You seem genuine with good vibes. But, they’re his parents who know about Monica and know about how Tom has been thanks to Harry and Harrison telling them so they’re cautious, afraid of what will happen if their son goes through either situation again.

“So, Tom says you’re a writer, eh?” Dom asks, breaking the silence.

“Uh,” You stutters. “I-I mean, I-I write, yeah but I wouldn’t say I was a writer.”

“If you write, you’re a writer.” He chuckles. “What d’ya like to write?”

“Fiction, coming of age, fantasy kind of. Fantasy like fairytales, I guess.” You explain, your heart is starting to pick up speed with you having to actually conversate without Tom around. You just really want them to like you.

“That so?” Dom asks, more than intrigued. “You know, I’m an author myself and I’ve just started on this piece. Would you like to read a bit of it and let me know what do you think?”

Your eyes widen as you glance to Nikki and back to Dom. “A-are you sure?”

“C’mon.” Dom stands up and leads the way inside the house. “You’ll see why but I think you’d be a good help.”

“What could I help with?” You ask quietly as Dom leads you through the house to the living room where his laptop is rested atop a small table.

“Just your opinion.” He says as he takes a seat and you sit on the opposite end of the couch.

“Did Tom tell you?” You raise a brow, knowing Tom’s read over your list a thousand times by now.

“Tells me a lot now, thanks to you.” Dom says as he pulls open his document. You watch him with curiosity. Dom glances to you and shakes his head. “Yes, he told me. He told me you wanted to be a published writer.”

You sigh before a laugh escapes your lips. “He’s determined, I’ll give him that.”

“Once his mind is set on something, he’s never giving up. So, I’ve got news for you, you’re doing everything on your list.” Dom jokes sliding over his laptop. “Only a few paragraphs but it’s something.”

You read over the few paragraphs Dom has and it’s talking of the after effects of a ship being wrecked and a group of friends trying to figure out what to do. You feel it’s an honor to read something before it’s done because it’s someone’s work and you’re being trusted with it. But, also, because this might not make the final cut and you still get to know that this thing was happening. You’ll be one of the few people who knows. It’s like a secret between you and the characters that are being written.

“I like it.” You say, sliding the laptop back over. “I really wanna know how they got there and what they’re going to do.”

“What would you do?” He asks.

“Panic.” You laugh. “A lot of panic.”

“Just panic.” Dom chuckles.

“And cry.” You state.”But after that, I think I’d probably start a fire and create a type of signal in case a boat or a plane or something can see it and then I’d start looking for freshwater assuming we’d be stuck there for awhile.”

Dom nods, a satisfied smile on his face. “Continue, please.” He says, curious as to what you would do.

You start talking, what you would do and who you would declare the leader of the group just from what you got of the few paragraphs. Dom interacted and countered your plan which you quickly backed up if you ran into a roadblock. The two of you went back and forth and every ounce of you that was nervous about meeting Tom’s dad just vanished. Your thoughts weren’t even on the fact that he was Tom’s dad or that you were in Tom’s childhood home. You were just talking to someone about something they’re passionate about and someone you happen to share the same passion with.

Once you were done discussing what Dom had questions about, you gained the courage and asked if you could run your idea by him and ask for opinions so long as he promised not to tell Tom what you were writing. It’s something you don’t do. You don’t share your ideas with anyone besides your mom but you have the opportunity to share it with someone who actually has published books and you’d be stupid not to run it by him. And when you do, it grabs his attention immediately. It’s a story about survival after an abundance of radioactive waste is dumped into water, killing millions and millions of people.

You and Dom discuss what you’re writing. You bounce what you have off of him and explain your characters, still keeping parts to yourself but giving him enough that he’ll be able to give you a proper opinion. And you just talk. He asks what sparked the idea and you go on to explain that you wanted to try something totally different since the death of Alex, not feeling the need to hide it anymore, and this was something that would push you. It would pull you from reality and let you express anything you didn’t know how.

You felt so comfortable with Tom’s dad, like he was your own, that you hadn’t noticed Tom walk in. Talking to Tom’s dad was like talking to her own without her feeling the need to completely censor yourself on certain topics. He’s a lot like Tom and it’s nice.

“Aye,” Tom chimes, finally breaking the conversation. “Mum’s got dinner ready.”

Dom smiles at you as he stands. “Creative.” He says. “Meet you both in there.”

Tom nods, watching his dad leave the room. “Gettin’ along quite well there, Love?” Tom smirks as you stand.

“You’re a lot like your dad.” You say nonchalantly.

“Think so?” Tom asks, the smirk gone as you approach him.

“Mhm.” You hum. “You seem surprised?”

Tom shakes his head. “Been awhile since I’ve heard it, is all. Thanks.”

You start to ask a question that you’ve had for a long time but given that you’re about to sit down with his family for dinner, you figure it’s best to hold your tongue. “Of course.” You smile softly and Tom pulls you closer to him to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon, now Mum’s gotta like ya.” Tom wiggles his brows and interlocks his fingers with yours.

* * *

Dinner went well. You talked mostly to Sam and Tom but there were multiple conversations being had across the table as if you weren’t even a guest. It was like you seemed to fit in without really trying and it was like you’d already been there a thousand times for dinner. Tom’s family worries about him and they want to protect him but they’re still open enough to make anyone feel comfortable in their own home. They’re accomplishing that.

The rest of the night had gone by and the morning soon came. You got a hold of Harrison who promised to take you into the city while Tom spent the day with his family. You were actually excited to spend the day with Harrison seeing as your last conversation alone involved a lot of death discussions but you were very excited to actually see London. Not see it from a laptop or phone screen but see it in person. Walk the streets and breathe.

“So, how’s meeting the family?” Harrison asks, nudging your shoulder as he shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

“Not as bad as I thought it was gonna be if I’m being honest.” You chuckle, poking your ice cream as you watch your feet walk across the sidewalk.

“Yeah?” Harrison’s voice picks up, showing his cheeriness.

“Yeah,” Your cheeks warm. “They’re all very nice.”

“Yeah, get why they’re like a second family to me now?” Harrison asks, looking to you.

“Oh yeah.” You say with wide eyes before taking a bite of your ice cream.

“Talk to his mum much?” Harrison asks, your eyes looking over the river and back to Harrison.

“Not much.” You admit. “Mostly his dad and his brothers.” Your voice shows hints of disappointment.

“She’ll want to talk to you one-on-one, don’t let it get you down.” Harrison gives you a reassuring smile.

“I just want her to like me.” You admit.

“She will.” Harrison states. “Gotta be crazy not to.” Harrison rolls his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You humor his statements.

“You’re nice to everyone, give everyone a chance no matter their story. Ya care a little too much in my opinion. You’re just...nice. It’s hard not to like you and I think she’ll see it, too.”

“Thanks, Harrison.” You shake your head, looking to the large ferris wheel to your left.

“It’s what I do.” He jokes.

“Speaking of what you do,” You start. “You talk to Seb at all?”

“‘Course, make me a hypocrite if I tell you and Tom to talk but I don’t talk to her.” Harrison chortles, matching your stare on the circular ride.

“Did it not go well?” You ask, moving your eyes back to him.

He shrugs a shoulder. “Nah,” He shakes his head and his blue eyes fall sad, looking straight ahead of him. “She doesn’t want to talk to me or hear me out.”

“She always seemed nice.” You say.

Harrison says, taking a bite of his ice cream. “Yeah, she is.” Harrison says in her defense. “She’s got the right to not want to talk to me. I did ditch her a lot for Tom. He needed me and that’s still not fair to her.”

“If she were nice, she would give you the benefit of the doubt and give you a little bit of sympathy, understand that you have a friend who solely relies on you like you’re a life jacket.” Harrison looks down to you, brows furrowed and raised. “I’m just saying,” You say, rolling your shoulders. “If she were nice, she’d at least hear you out but she won’t. I don’t think that’s very nice and that’s coming from someone you say is nice.”

Harrison’s head goes back as he laughs. “Okay, okay,” He says. “Yeah, maybe she could be a little nicer but that doesn’t make her a bad person, y/n.”

“I didn't say it did.” You say casually. “I said she’s not nice. Tom wasn’t nice when I met him either.”

“Alright, cut the shit. What’re you on about?” Harrison asks.

You smirk. “Maybe you shouldn’t give up on her.”

“Ooooh,” Harrison laughs, nodding his head. “Take my own advice, huh?”

“You asked me as Tom’s friend not to give up on him and he was covered in blood. We were covered in his blood and neither of you would tell me what the heck was going on. It took months to get a backstory. So, yeah, take your own advice if you really like her.”

“You said you weren’t going to give up on him anyway if I remember correctly.” Harrison scrunches his nose as you round a corner.

“Yeah,” You take a bite of your ice cream. “But, hearing that I shouldn’t, just solidified my decision. It boosted my faith if you will.”

Harrison shakes his head and bumps his shoulder against yours. “Alright, I’ll try again when we get back.” You beam up at him, satisfied with his response. “Now, I’ve shown the Birmingham Palace, you’ve seen Big Ben, ready to get on the London Eye and continue to be the biggest tourist?” Harrison mocks.

“Duh.” You give him a toothy smile full of excitement. “This is the coolest stuff ever, okay? Look at the architecture! It’s awesome and Harry gave me a quick crash course on how to get my pictures to turn out better from my phone.”

Harrison stifles a laugh. “Of course he did.”

“My mom wanted pictures and this is cool, Harrison!” You defend, sarcasm in your words.

“You need to get out more.” Harrison shakes his head but a smile dances onto his face. “C’mon, make sure you send a picture to Tom so he knows I’m not getting you into trouble.”

“Mhm.” You hum.

By the time you were done at the London Eye, it was time to head back to Tom’s home. It was reaching just after seven on your way back and you were exhausted. You nearly fell asleep on the way back, Harrison allowing you to doze off and choosing it best for you to rest if you needed. You walked a good portion of the day and you had left early that morning. It was simply a long day. It was a good day, but long. So by the time Harrison dropped you off, your eyes were drooping and you had a lazy smile as you relayed the day to Tom, who only urged you to just sleep. Which, of course, the second you laid down, you were out.

When the next day had come around, Tom took you to a park for a picnic. The weather, the second day in a row, was nice and he was going to take advantage of it. And the picnic went smoothly and it was perfect. Tom told random stories of him and his brothers coming to this park and accidentally hitting each other in the face with a soccer ball or two. He explained that one time he fell from a tree and broke his arm which came as no surprise to you at all.

And as the day progressed, it just turned into Tom showing you around his neighborhood. He took you to his favorite place to eat and the pub him and his friends always went to. You, only ever being a bar a handful of times, found the pub interesting and it brought a smile to your face. It was different but a good different.

It was all just incredible to be able to see a light in Tom’s eyes as he talked about himself and not to boast but to just talk about his childhood, his past. You listened to him all day which is how you ended up sitting on the shingles on top of the shed in his garden.

“Have you had fun the past few days?” Tom asks, knees pulled almost to his chest while his arms lay across his knees.

“So much.” You said with excitement.

“Yeah?” Tom looks to you, his eyes so bright with pure happiness that they can put the city lights to shame.

“Mhm.” You hum. “Really liked today. London is cool and a lot of fun and you know I adore Harrison, but I liked today.” You say with a gentle smile.

“Why’s that?” Tom asks, biting his bottom lip.

“It was about you.” You shrug. “Just you. Your world, ya know?”

Tom nods softly. “Yeah.” He looks back in front of him where the London lights were coming from.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, your eyes on Tom’s profile.

“Of course.” He says, looking back to you.

“Why did you say your parents were disappointed in you?” You ask softly.

Tom closes his eyes for just a second before running a hand through his tousled hair. “Were you proud of me a few months ago?”

“No.” You say maybe a little quickly.

“Yeah, exactly.” Tom sighs. Just didn’t like who I was becomin’, ya know? Wasn’t who they raised me to be.”

“Is that why you looked relieved when I said you’re like your dad?”

“Yeah.” Tom answers quietly. “Always looked up to him and wanted to be like him. But,” He pauses, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. “Bad things happen.”

Tom’s jaw clenches as his eyes stay locked on where the lights shine brighter than the stars. He picks at his nails and he can feel his blood start to warm with anger. It’s not anger at you for asking because you’re only asking because you care. Your innocence keeps Tom’s blood from boiling over. You keep him calm but that doesn’t stop his fury with the universe.

“You okay, Tommy?” You lean a little forward to try and get into his vision.

He doesn’t look at you though. “Still bein’ optimistic?”

“Not if you need to rant.”

“You sure?” He glances to you without moving his head.

‘Yeah, go for it.”

“Everytime something good happens, something horrible follows just after. Like it’s some cruel fuckin’ joke.” His voice hardens while he overlooks the sky. “Someone out there having a good ole laugh because, well, they fooled me again.” His head shakes, a loose curl falling onto his forehead. “I just think I’m forever doomed to be unhappy.” Tom’s stare moves to you. “You ever feel that way?”

“No,” You shake your head as your heart weighs heavy for Tom. He deserves all the happiness and good things in the world. It’s a shame he thinks he’ll never be permantley happy. Heartbreaking.

“Bullshit.” He calls your bluff.

“No, I just, don’t feel like that.” You say.

“Fuckin’ bullshit.” Tom looks to you, shaking his head. “You can get mad sometimes, at whatever the hell you believe in. You might die. You can be mad sometimes. Bad things happen to you, too.”

“Okay,” You say. “Of course I’m mad.” You roll your eyes and set your stare at the lights. “But what the heck is being mad the universe going to do for me? Nothing. It’s not going to get me a heart or magically fix my health. I was mad, really, really mad for a long time but it didn’t do anything. So I let it go.”

“Let it go?” Tom scoffs.

“I did but then you had to walk in and now I’m mad again, okay?” Your voice hardens with annoyance, but like Tom, it wasn’t directed at him, just the universe.

Tom’s eyes scan her face as his brows knit together. “What?”

“I was fine. I was okay with everything and content with just going day by day until the inevitable happened or a miracle came but then you came in and this wasn’t supposed to happen but it did. And now, I’m angry because how dare the universe curse me with this crap and give me you. That’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to you. Because I love you and I’m no longer okay with dying. So I’m angry but I don’t wallow in it.”

“Why not?” Tom questions, almost challenging you. “Why not?”

“What would it do? Then I’d be dying and angry. I don’t want to be dying and angry. I don’t want to be dying but if I’m going to, I want to be happy. So, I focus on your stupid eyebrow,” You chuckle as Tom shakes his head, his face softening. “And your eyes when I wake up because you’re creepy and always staring at me,” She teases, nudging your shoulder against his. “And I focus on how happy my dad is every single time my mom’s name pops up on his phone. I think about how happy I am when I get to lose myself in my writing or a good book for a few hours. I don’t worry about everything bad that could happen or that does happen. Life is too short, Tom.”

Tom stares at you and you’re so casual about it. It’s like it’s second nature to just express why you think the way you do. You’re so okay with everything and Tom doesn’t quite get it and maybe he never will but then again, maybe he will. Maybe he will because you give him the ability to believe in a happy ending even when the odds seem stacked against him. You give him faith where he needs it and for that, he will be forever grateful. And he feels like he owes you an outlet now. Something.

“Well, you can be angry around me if you want.” Tom offers. “I’ll be optimistic around you and you can be mad around me.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m gonna be,” You swallow as you push a lump down with a hard swallow. “Really, really mad if I die.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Tom offers his arm out and you move over to him, resting your head on his shoulder, taking deep breaths. “But, you’re not gonna die.” Tom kisses the top of your head.

“I really hope not.” Your voice is quiet, almost broken.

“You won’t.” Tom states. “I won’t let you.”

“Believe in miracles?” You ask.

“Do you?” His eyes look down to you as you lift your head up.

“Like to think so.”

“Then yeah, yeah I do.”

“Okay.” You whisper.

Tom is quiet for a few seconds as he stares at you just as he was a few minutes before. Your eyes are glossed over this time, not crying, just glossy and you’ve lost a little bit of light but you’re still you. Angry, sad, hopeless, happy, you’re you. And it’s gonna hurt like hell if you die but Tom can’t help but think how lucky he is to know you now, know you while he has the chance. It is cliche and it’s terrible, but in this moment with the London lights a few miles away and just barely casting light on your face, he’s so grateful he got to love you when he did.

“I’m...in love with you, ya know?” Tom whispers, his voice gentle as ever and the most honest thing that’s ever left his.

You lean your forehead against his, nodding softly. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Tom cups the side of your face with one hand, bringing your mouth to his. You sigh into him, Tom’s lips pulling into a soft smile. Before you can deepen the kiss, Tom pulls away and liters your face is quick kisses. You burst into a fit of a laughter in response, barely pulling away from him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Thank you.” Tom says in response. “Ready to head to bed?” He jerks his head towards the house. “Gettin’ late for you.” He chuckles softly.

“Actually,” You say. “Yeah, I’m exhausted.”

“C’mon then.” Tom slides down the shingles and onto the grass first, helping you down. “Can turn on whatever you want tonight.” Tom drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “Sound good?”

“Amazing.” You look up to him, a loving smile aching your cheeks.


	22. shopping and balancing

As the morning came around, you woke up to the smell of a fresh breakfast coming from the downstairs. Your eyes opened to be met with Tom’s sleeping figure. His hair is a curly mess, curls covering his forehead and his mouth partially open as soft snores left his mouth. His chest rose in a steady, relaxed rhythm. You smiled softly and brought a hand to his face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. His eyes squeezed shut as his head shook. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his nose, waking him up.

“Hm, morning, love.” Tom says, voice groggy and cracking.

“Good morning.” You whispered, your voice cheerful.

“How long you been up?” He asks, pulling you closer with the arm rested beneath your head.

“Just a few minutes.” You snuggle your head into Tom’s chest as his other arm falls over your waist.

“Good.” He gives you a soft grin, eyes closing again.

“Can smell food.”

Tom chuckles and leans forward pressing a tired kiss to your lips. “Mhm, Sam.”

“How do you know who’s cooking?”

“It’s biscuits and gravy, mum and dad don’t make it. Sam does.” His hand trails up just the hem of your shirt, massaging your skin.

“Yum.” You whisper, your hand following his lead, making the same movements on his bare back.

“Should get up.” He looks down at you and you glance up to him.

“Yeah,” You agree with a soft nod.

Tom glides his hand across your back and to your face, his fingers just grazing over the exposed skin of your arm leaving a delicate trail of goosebumps. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss only to break away and pepper your face is quick pecks. A smirk forms as you laugh, eyes squeezing shut and nose wrinkling. Tom’s heart skips and sinks as he pulls away, looking at you. You make him feel like he’s soaring.

Your laugh subsides as you tilt your head, almost questioning why Tom is just looking at you. But, you stay silent for a few moments, letting a few beats of your heart pass. It’s peaceful here, in his old room with a faded glow of the sun coming through the curtains and just dusting over Tom’s face. The corner of his mouth is tugged into what could barely be considered a smile of adornment, one so subtle he probably doesn’t even notice it. His skin is soft and smooth, acne scars not as prominent in this lighting. But his eyes are big, a lighter shade of brown than their normal deep hue. They’re almost the color of freshly stained antique cherry wood, little speck of mahogany scattered about, shining like specks of glitter. It’s the look of complete relaxation and comfort, safety and contentment all in one.

“I love you, too.” You chime giving him a quick kiss on the nose before tossing the blanket off of you and moving to get out of bed.

“How’d ya know I was gonna say that?” Tom chuckles, watching you toss his hoodie over her head.

“You have a look.” You say softly.

“A look?” He raises a brow and sits up.

“Yeah, just a look.” You give him a timid smile. “Food?”

“Alright, alright.” Tom says jokingly as he gets up from his bed. “Was gonna wear that jumper.”

You look down at the dark blue fabric, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “You said I could borrow it as long as I wanted.”

“You can.”Tom affirms, grabbing the black hoodie he’d worn the day before. “Why d’ya like that one so much anyway?”

You shrug a shoulder. “First one you loaned me.”

Tom looks to you, pajama pants in hand and a raised brow on display. “That’s why?”

“Mhm.” You hum quietly. “I like it anyway but…I don’t know. This was just the first one you loaned me so I really like it.”

Tom shakes his head, sliding on his pants over his boxer briefs. “Alright. You’re the cheesy one, now.”

“What about it?” Your eyes widen, a playful smile teasing your lips.

Tom laughs. “Nothin’, just saying.” He jerks his head towards the door. “Better get down there before Harry and Paddy scarf it all down.”

Tom leads you downstairs and to the kitchen where, sure enough, Sam is just finishing the food and the rest of Tom’s family is scattered about the kitchen. Tom started getting him and you cups of coffee while you were offered a seat at the table with Tom’s mom. You still haven’t talked much to her but seeing as you were the only two at the table, a conversation was bound to happen. Which, his mom was hoping for anyway.

“Did you sleep well?” Nikki asks.

“Oh, yes, I did.” You answer softly.

“Good, good.” Nikki responds. “Do either of you have plans today?”

“Uh,” You glance to Tom who was picking fun at Paddy for something you couldn’t make out. “No, we’re not very good planners I guess.” You stifle a faint chuckle.

“Well, in that case, I had some shopping I wanted to do and I know Harrison only took you around the big tourist spots. How’d you like to come with me today?”

Your eyes about shot out of your head and your heart immediately started racing with anxiety. “Oh, it’s okay.” You say. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Not intruding,” Nikki shakes her head, taking a drink of her tea. “The boys can do their thing while we’re out.”

You nod. “Okay, yeah. Sounds great.” You give her a nervous smile, Nikki smiling in response.

You know Tom’s dad is at least somewhat fond of you but that’s not really who you’ve been worried about. It’s Tom’s mom. She has been nothing but nice and welcoming since you’ve come but Tom’s her son, her first son so she’s going to be protective and you need her to like you. But, you were hoping you could win his mom over…around Tom not one-on-one, that’s just nerve-wracking and there’s so much pressure.

What are you supposed to talk about? With Tom’s dad, you both find common ground in writing but what could you have in common with Tom’s mom? And what if five minutes into the day, Tom’s mom decides she doesn’t like you? It’s going to work out for one hell of an awkward day and the rest of the week. But, you have to go. It really would be rude to turn her completely down and you do want to get to know her so she can get to know you. You just wish it wasn’t so anxiety-inducing.

Breakfast is served and conversation stirs about the table. One after the other, the family and you finish your food and are off to start their day. You move up to the room you’re sharing with Tom and get ready for your day of shopping with his mom. You struggle picking out what to wear and Tom tries to help but his fashion sense is a black or grey t-shirt with deep blue jeans and red NIKEs. He’s not much help so you end up settling on a better pair of jeans and a maroon blouse.

Tom thinks you’re being a little dramatic but then you recall him triple checking his outfit when he met your family. But that only resulted in a quip about how your dad already didn’t like him so he had to make a good, lasting impression on everyone else. But, nonetheless, Tom lets you talk about being worried as you two go to the bathroom so you can do your hair and makeup.

Tom watches you do her hair and makeup in the bathroom, an amused smirk on his face while your nerves grow. Talking should make them ease up, but they don’t, not even a little bit. Tom reassures you that you’ll be fine and his mom will love you and but it doesn’t make a dent or ease any of the tension growing between your shoulder blades.

“How can you be so sure?” You ask, leaning against the counter to face him. 

“She’s my mum?” Tom answers sarcastically. You narrow your eyes, silently scolding him. “I just do.” Tom sucks in his bottom lip, a tell he’s hiding something.

“Did she say something?” You ask hesitantly. 

Tom nods. “She did, ya.”

“What’d she say?” You press, urgency in your words. 

Tom chuckles, standing up from his seat on the toilet seat. “Just trust me, darlin’. She likes you already. She just wants to get to know you.” Tom pulls you against his chest and kisses your forehead.

You sigh into him, closing your eyes. “I hope so.”

Tom’s words ease a little bit of your anxiety but you’ve still never been so nervous for anything. And unfortunately for you, you have no more time to prepare. Tom’s dad is ready to head out and so is tom’s mom. Tom’s going golfing while you’re going shopping which also means Tom won’t be paying attention to his phone if things go south. 

Most of the ride to the city was quiet besides the radio that was playing. You fiddled with your fingers and only looked at your phone when Tom had texted you on his way to the country club, trying to stay polite and off of your phone just in case Tom’s mom were to talk. You were dying for her to talk, truthfully, just something to break the awkward tension that was building in the car. But, you didn’t want to start the conversation. Parents can be tricky and the safe bet is always to just stay quiet unless spoken to and you were taught that way, so that’s what you did. Luckily though, Tom’s mom did break the silence.

“So, you’re from New York, that right?” She asks. “You grew up there, I mean.” She clarifies.

You nod, looking over to her. “Yeah, grew up in a neighborhood, suburb kind of, called Chelsea, outside of the city.”

“And your parents?”

“Mom’s in Oregon and dad still lives in Chelsea but he works at the family shop a few blocks from my apartment.”

Tom’s mom pauses for a few beats. “Good childhood? With your mum away?”

“Oh, uh,” You shake your head. “Yeah, it was good but my mom hasn’t been away long. She was in New York until I graduated high school and she still visits all the time. We were always close and everything, fought sometimes but that’s it.”

She’s silent for a few seconds. “I don’t mean to pry, but is there a reason you didn’t go with your mum?”

You suck in a sharp breath. “Uh, well, yeah,” You try to find words, not wanting to lie. “Tom doesn’t know because he would have freaked out,” You pause, Tom’s mom glancing to you. “I have to be within a three-hour radius of my hospital for a transplant.” You admit, figuring Tom’s told her everything already. “And it’s easier to stay in New York with Dr. Choi than to have to find another cardiologist who would need a lot of records. It’s just a lot of work to transfer and there are risks and doctors want to try different treatments even if I’ve already done them.” You shake your head. “My choice.”

“You came here…knowing you’re not supposed to?” Tom’s mom questions. 

You shrug, shifting in your seat. “Yeah, I cleared it with my doctor first though. I, um, just didn’t see the point of staying. It’s a week and everything happens for a reason.”

“Tom worries sick about you, you know?” Her voice is almost scolding. 

“I know.” You whisper. “I just feel trapped in New York now.” 

“Please, be careful.” 

“I will be.” You assure. 

“Not what I meant.” 

“I know.” You whisper carefully. “Harrison said the same thing.” 

Tom’s mom can’t help but laugh and roll her eyes. “Harrison.” There’s a delicate smile coming to her face as her eyes stay on the road. “Well, are you in school then? Looking into a career?”

You pause with the question, happy to switch topics but also not too fond of this one knowing the looks you get when you’re asked those questions. There’s an expectation that everyone goes to high school, graduates, goes to college, and then starts their nine to five. If someone chooses to do anything different, they’re given a look that immediately says they’re a deadbeat and won’t amount to anything. It’s incredibly disheartening.

“No judgment.” Tom’s mom says. “Tom never went to uni.” An easy chuckle fills the car.

A sigh escapes your lips. “Yeah, I, uh, I never went to college. I turned it down to work with my dad.”

“Did you?” Nikki glances to you, surprise in her eyes.

You chew your cheek. “Yeah, it’s a long story but yeah, I did. I always just wanted to be a writer,. That’s it and my back up plan was an English teacher.”

“Tom know?”

“No,” You say quietly. “It hasn’t come up but if it does, I’ll tell him.”

“Good.” She says in response. “Well, are you enjoying your time here so far?” Nikki drops the protective parent questions, figuring she’d get to know you by just conversating rather than railing you with questions on your entire life story.

“Yes,” You smile wide. “It’s amazing here. I’m already dreading going to back to New York.” You laugh.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice here.” Nikki agrees with a smile. “Where did Harrison take you exactly?”

“Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and the London Eye and we got ice cream.”

Nikki shakes her head with a soft laugh. “He did well, then.”

“Yeah, Harrison’s great.”

“There’s a reason he’s like family.”

The air lightens as the conversation continues. You end up finding common interest in baking. Sam might be the one who cooks a lot but she can bake. You tell her about Tom attacking you with flour to which she wasn’t surprised at all. Apparently, Tom was always a menace in the kitchen which is why he never learned to bake. Nikki was quick to kick him out before he’d make a mess or start eating whatever he could get his hands on. Some things never change.

The two of you go into the mall and Nikki explains what she needs, stuff for Tom’s dad and the boys with the summer quickly approaching. You decide you were just going to see if anything sparked your interest and go from there. You have plenty of money with you for whatever you could find but you didn’t actually have your heart set on anything specific, plus you knew you could only fit so much into your bags to fly back home.

Before either of you knew it, Nikki and you were bonding over anything and everything. In fact, you’re getting along so well that you actually question why you were so nervous about this in the first place. Just like with Tom’s dad, it’s easy and light-hearted. You’re still a little convinced you’re being judged but not like before. Now, it’s just fun and laughter. By the time you were walking out of the mall to head back to the house, your conversation was coming back around to Tom.

“I do want to thank you.” She says as you make your way to Nikki’s car.

“For what?” You ask.

“Giving me my son back.” She sighs as she rests her bags in the back of the car. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”

You don’t say anything. You nod and give her a kind smile, your heart coming up to your throat. There’s the thought weighing in the back of your head that Tom might be the happiest he’s been in a long time but all of that could come crashing down again. You might be the reason for his happiness now but you could easily become the reason for another slip.

“I only want him to be happy.” You find the strength to say as you get into the car.

“You’re doing a very good job of that.” Nikki says. “I have to admit,” She says as she starts the car. “I wasn’t sure about you, with everything Tom has told me.”

“What did he tell you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You ask, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

Nikki simply laughs and nods. “He told me what you said about him being a narcissist.”

You make a ‘yikes’ face. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, he needed someone to tell him.” She continues to laugh as she starts driving. “But, he told me that you also completely stopped talking to him for a week. Got a call from Harrison about it.”

“I’m sorry about that, too.” You hang your head, shame taking over.

“I would have done the same thing.” She admits. “I wouldn’t have wanted Dom to go through it. It was wrong, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have done it.”

“He deserved better though.”

“And you recognize that which I respect and you pushed to make amends with him. You set yourself aside for him. But, that’s not what had me worried.” Nikki says, causing you more confusion. “He had told me before that you made him okay again, with everything which he immediately followed with your condition.”

“So, you’re afraid I’m gonna die, too and he’s going to fall back into old habits?” You fill in the blanks.

“He’s my son.” Nikki says, her voice warning.

“He promised me that he would come back here if it happened and he wouldn’t go back to who he was.”

Nikki nods. “I’m sure he will.” She sighs softly. “He’s crazy about you and I see why.”

Your veins cool with touches of relief. “Thanks.”

Nikki nods, giving you an approving smile. “Now, we better get back before Tom thinks I kidnapped you.” You laugh in response as you both continue the dive making conversation.

With both of Tom’s parents’ approval, the rest of the stay felt more and more comfortable with every passing second. You quickly felt like you were becoming part of this close-knit family. You no longer felt like you were intruding or just a guest. You felt like you belonged somewhere, somewhere with Tom. And Tom really could not be happier. His family adored you by the time it was time to leave, saying you had to come back and visit as soon as you could and you didn’t have to bring Tom with. Tom was the optional one.

Your first trip with Tom was perfect and more than you could have ever asked for but Tom didn’t stop there. When you both got back to New York, Tom was right back to getting you to complete things on your Not A Bucket List between working. He went for a manicure with you which lead him to admit manicures are great and it definitely won’t be his last. Tom took you to a nightclub which was an experience you can’t decide if you actually really enjoyed or would prefer to never go again. It was loud but it did bring you out of your shell a little bit, dancing with Tom on a floor filled with people. You did have plenty of and Tom couldn’t keep his hands off you which you can never complain about. He took you to try sushi which you weren’t too big of a fan of but you were happy you did get to try it.

As a month went by, more and more things were crossed off your list and nothing terrible seemed to be happening. Your heart was holding as strong as it could with the pacemaker. Dr. Choi said things didn’t seem to be deteriorating much when you had had your doctor’s appointment two weeks after coming back from London. Tom and you were stronger than ever and even your friendship with Harrison was blooming. You were happy and Tom was happy. Everything seemed so happy so when you got a call from Tom while you were out with Harrison that you needed to come back to your apartment, your heart sank knowing that with all the good that had been happening, it was only a matter of time before something bad happened.

Harrison took you back and you went to your apartment, Tom already there with you giving him the spare key. But, when you walked in, he contained a large grin and a large box was on the table. Your eyes narrowed as you approached.

“What’s in the box?”

“Open it.” Tom urges, arms crossed over his chest.

“If you’re pranking me, Tom-”

“I promise, just open the bloody box.” Tom gestures out.

You do as told and lift the top off the box to be met with high pitched, small meows and a grey and tan kitten. You gasped as you reached inside and picked up the kitten, bringing it to your chest. Your face split with a smile as you pet the new kitten and Tom beamed, happy with your response.

“Already talked with the landlord and you can have a cat so…surprise!” Tom yells.

“You hate cats.” You quip, barely looking away from the small bundle of fur in your arms.

“But you love cats.” Tom says innocently.

“And I love you.” Your voice is cheery as you lean into Tom to kiss his lips. “Did you really get me a kitten?”

“Own a cat. It’s on your list.” Tom smirked. “Got you the essentials.” He pulls out a bag from under the table. He pulls out two small bowls, a few containers of cat food, and then toys and treats. “Litter box and litter is in your bathroom.”

“You really are prepared.” You say, your cheeks aching from smiling too much.

“I tried, ya.” Tom says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s her name?”

“The shelter said its name is Ember.”

“Of course because she’s grey. How old?”

“Said almost three months.” Tom answers proudly. “She’s chipped, too and oh,” Tom reaches in his back pocket. “Got her a collar.” He pulls out a Spider-Man collar with a bell.

“You’re a nerd and you’re gonna make my cat a nerd.” You joke as Tom puts the collar on.

“Look, she’s lucky to have this collar. It’s an honor.” Tom quips.

“Dork.” You laugh but give him a grateful smile. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.” Tom says, pulling you in for a side hug. “I think she wants to play.” Tom chuckles as Ember plays with a strand of your hair.

“Well, you got enough toys so.” You say, walking to the living room while Tom brings the stick with a long string and stuffed mouse connected to the end.

The two of you spend the rest of the day playing with Ember. Tom can say he hates cats all he wants but he was laughing and having just as much fun as you were. And you couldn’t quite figure out how you were ever going to repay Tom for this. It seemed completely out of the blue but you didn’t know that Tom had actually been looking into getting you a cat when you’d gotten back from London.

He found a shelter and they happened to have a cat that had just given birth and thanks to shelter rules, no one was allowed to call dibs so Tom made sure to have the date set when they’d be available for adoption. He picked out the smallest one figuring you would be fond of the runt. And he was right because you’re already completely attached and it’s the best decision he’s made. Anything to keep you smiling and laughing.

Night came and Tom was staying at your apartment this time, the two of you comfortable and asleep in bed. Ember had made her spot on the side of Tom’s legs while your back was pressed against Tom’s chest, him keeping you warm. Tom was sound asleep until he felt you shift in your sleep before slowly getting out of bed.

“Where’re you goin’?” Tom asks, eyes still shut.

You move across your room, barely answering. “Bathroom.”

When something bad happens, there’s almost this instinct that kicks in. It’s in the gut, something just doesn’t feel right and that’s all Tom can focus on. You’ve gotten up in the middle of the night before just as he has but neither of you have ever woken each other up. You’re both careful and mindful of each other. But, you woke up him and it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t move any different but it’s like something fell out of place with your movement and Tom had to stir awake. And at first, he brushed it off because maybe he just wasn’t fully asleep but as minutes passed and he tried to fall back asleep, his heart sped up and he just became more awake. He couldn’t hear anything from the bathroom but something told him to get up and check.

He pulled himself out of bed, careful not to accidentally push Ember off the bed. He bumped his leg on the corner of the bed trying to move around the room until he found the door. Tom flipped on the hall light and made his way to the bathroom, knocking on the softly.

“Alright, love?” Tom asks, eyes still adjusting to the light.

He hears you cough a few times and the door unlock. He reaches for the handle and opens the door. You stand there, leaning over the sink with blood covering the front of the hoodie he loaned you and blood coming from your nose, some around your mouth. Your hands are covered in blood from covering your mouth while coughing. Your eyes are red and watering.

Tom stands in horror at the sight. You start coughing again, pulling your stare away from him and blood just pours from your mouth as you try to hold yourself up against the counter. Your fingers grasping the edge of the sink. A lump is caught in Tom’s throat and he’s frozen in place while you just spit up blood but a cry falls from your lips and he moves. He grabs your arms and moves you to sit on the floor in front of the toilet. You cough up more blood before you’re seated, covering part of the floor in crimson. Tom’s eyes burn and his hands shake, panic and shock setting in.

“Call…911.” You gasp before another cough echoes through the bathroom.


	23. lost hope

There’s blood still being coughed up as Tom’s hands shake. He runs out of the bathroom and to the bedroom, ripping his phone from his charger. He dials 9-1-1 as fast his fingers would allow him as he moved back into the bathroom with you. His voice shook and raised with every passing second, the urgency evident in how fast he was speaking to the operator. 

He knew something could happen. You had told him that sometimes things just…happen. Tom is well aware that if you do not get a heart, you die. That’s how it is but, just like you said about Alex, it’s not real until it happens. It’s as if he’s been living in some fairytale the past few months, cautious of what could happen but not rightfully preparing himself as he tried to stay optimistic as best as he could. Tom always expects the worst but he really didn’t expect this.

Tom kept the phone on speaker as you waited for an ambulance. He relayed everything that was going on but he went dead silent when the wheezing started. You coughed up more blood and tugged at the top of the hoodie as if you felt it was choking you. Your breathing became more labored as seconds passed and it felt like minutes. Tom helped you out of the hoodie but it didn’t feel like it was him. It was like he was watching from above, not fully there. You can’t breathe and there’s blood. Tom can’t but think you’re really dying on him.

The paramedics came after only a few minutes and Tom let them in, leading them to the bathroom. By then, you were still barely breathing, hardly to form full sentences.

“Uh,” Tom stutters, taking over. “She has dilated cardiomyopathy and is on the transplant list for a new heart.” His voice is bland, emotionless as he just watches them connect you to different wires and put a mask on you. “I-I don’t…I don't’ what happened.”

“Do you know who her doctor is?” One of the paramedics asks.

“Um…” Tom tries to remember. You ran your medical history by him a few weeks before, making sure he knew just in case something like this happened. You might be hopeful, but you’re not stupid. You have to be prepared for the worst. “Choi, Doctor Choi at Hodgkins.” Tom gets out.

The paramedic nods as they move you onto the stretcher. “You can ride with us.” She says as they move out of the bathroom.

Tom follows them, only glancing into the bloodied bathroom. What’s he supposed to do? He’s going to go with them but then what? He’s going to be stuck at the hospital. He’s not family. All Tom is is your boyfriend. And that’s just it. He’s your boyfriend and part of that responsibility is calling your dad. What the hell is he supposed to tell your dad?

They get into the ambulance and Tom is able to hold your hand. You’re still conscious, the mask helping you breathe and helping to keep you conscious. Your grip is loose on his, something he can’t stand. You might have small hands compared to Tom but whenever you’d have your grip on him whether it be his hand or around his waist, it was always tight as if you were the only one afraid of him disappearing. But, now Tom’s hand is gripping yours harder than ever as if the harder he holds your hand, the longer you’ll stay. You won’t just be able to slip and fall. You’ll be able to hang on, hang onto him.

You suck in as big a breath as you can. “H-harrison.” Tom’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. “Call……him.” You gasp between words.

“Why should I–” Tom freezes, the look of hopelessness in your eyes. Tom’s knows. “No,” He shakes his head. “You’re gonna be fine so I don’t need to, can wait.” He swallows hard, a few tears escaping from his eyes. “I’ll ring your dad, ya?”

You nod softly, your eyes fluttering closed. “Haz.”

“Y/n, can you hear us?” The paramedic asks, checking the stats, the numbers changing to something Tom doesn’t understand but can assume it’s not good. You nod once. “You have to keep your eyes open, can you do that for me?”

Your eyes open landing on the paramedic but flicker back to Tom. You start coughing again, blood coming up as you move the mask. The paramedic is quick to grab one of the medical waste bag used for vomiting. Tom’s panic picks right back up.

“What’s happening?” Tom asks, his eyes boring into the paramedic.

“I’m not sure.” She admits.

“ _Tommy_.” You cry out, the coughing slowly subsiding and tears starting to slide down your face, panic finally settling into your bones. You don’t want to die but you’re terrified that’s what’s finally happening.

Tom chokes down the lump in his throat and tries to keep himself together with the use of the nickname. He likes when you use it but not like this. It’s a cry for help and etched in fear. Tom’s supposed to be the scared one, scared of losing people and trusting but now it’s you. And Tom needs to find some way to put on a brave face and just let you be the one scared. You don’t want to die and you’re completely and utterly terrified that once you enter that hospital, you’re not going to leave.

Tom pulls his phone out from his hoodie and pulls up Harrison’s contact and sends him a quick text to tell him to get to the hospital. “Okay, I told ‘im.” Tom’s voice cracks as he squeezes your hand.

You nod once, your eyes starting to close again. Your voice is heavy but barely audible as you whisper, “I……love….you.”

The monitors you’re attached to start beeping rapidly and making different sounds, all at different frequencies. More panic streams through Tom’s face as your hand falls limp in his. The paramedic is moving over you, asking Tom to sit back. And that’s when the CPR starts.

Flashbacks seem to come back in waves. He can see Elena sprawled out on the hood of his car, eyes plastered on him. There’s no helping her and there’s blood everywhere. And Tom swears he’s losing his mind when he looks at his hands now and there’s blood because this can’t be happening again and he’s still holding the hoodie you had on. And there’s blood. But you aren’t breathing and it’s your blood.

Luckily though, they reached the hospital and doctors and nurses were ready to take care of you, including Doctor Choi. Tom followed, quickly behind them as long as they would let him but as soon as they were going to enter the elevator to rush you to the cardiac unit where Doctor Choi was already instructing, a nurse stopped Tom.

“I’m so sorry but you can’t go right now.”

“I-I just….” Tom trails off, watching the elevator.

“I know.” The nurse nods and puts a hand on Tom’s back to lead him to the waiting room. “They’re going to do what they can and someone will update you when they know anything. Is there anyone you want me to call?” The woman’s voice is motherly as she walks with Tom, words smooth and gentle.

“No.” Tom shakes his head. “I can do it.” There’s a quiver in his words, making the nurse shake her head.

“I can for you. You don’t have to.” She reassures.

“It’s okay.” Tom mumbles.

He couldn’t call Elena’s dad and tell him. Tom was being worked on himself. It’s part of what beat him up so bad. Tom always felt he owed it to her dad, to her parents, to tell them what happened. They shouldn’t have had to hear the news from total strangers. Tom should have told them. At least, he thinks he should have but it wasn’t his fault. But, now he’s not injured and it’s his responsibility to wake up your dad after midnight and tell him you’re in the hospital and he has no idea why.

The nurse looks down and notices the dark blue hoodie still in his hands. “Do you want me to take that for you?” The nurse asks, her voice laced in concern.

Tom looks down and his grip tightens, him hardly even realizing he’s been holding it as if it were some type of safety blanket. The thought made him scoff, the irony of t all. “It’s fine, um, it’s hers.” Tom says, brows drawn together as he shakes his head.

The nurse gives him a sympathetic look as she nods her head. “You just let me know if you need something, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Tom nods, his head almost lost in a fog, just moving through the motions. “I, uh, I’m gonna call her dad.”

She nods again and allows Tom to step back outside of the ER doors. His shaky thumb hovers over your dad’s contact, debating on how he’s supposed to do this. It’s his responsibility. He has to do this but how? He’s terrified that if he starts talking, explaining what happened, he’s going to completely break again. This is what he’s feared. You’re his glue and now he’s falling apart.

“Uh, Mr. y/l/n?” Tom says into the phone.

“Yes?” His voice is deeper than usual.

“It’s Tom,” He pauses for a second. “Y/n is in the hospital.”

The phone is dead silent for a few seconds. “Where?”

“Hodgkins.” Tom says quietly.

“On my way.” Your dad says without asking any questions.

Tom takes in a breath, closing his eyes and leaning against the brick wall of the hospital.  He lifts his head up and pulls the hoodie into view. Your blood covers the orange, stenciled letters and his first thought is that he’ll need to get blood out of it. It’s like Tom is falling into a well filled with people’s hopes and dreams, his and your hopes and dreams and he’s just clinging to a rope of a hope that he won’t be just wasted away. You won’t just be wasted away. That everything is going to be okay despite how it might look.

“Tom?” There’s a rush in his name, almost breathless. He looks up and sees Harrison, blonde curls a dishelved, damp mess.

“Harrison.” Tom’s voice cracks as he pushes off the wall.

“You alright, mate?” Harrison asks, his breathing coming back to normal.

What Tom didn’t know was that Harrison was mid-shower when he got the text There was something that told him to just check and when he did, he shot out of the bathroom. He got dressed, still dripping wet and rushed out of his apartment. He parked in the hospital’s parking garage and ran to the ER entrance. It doesn’t matter that it’s midnight or that Harrison was busy. He saw that text and knew Tom needed him.

Tom stares at him for a few seconds before walking up to his best friend. “I don’t know.” Tom shakes his head and Harrison can feel his stomach turning for his friend. He’s only seen that look on Tom’s face one other time and he hoped to anyone in the world that he’d never see it again.

“What happened?” Harrison asks.

Tom shakes his head. “She just started coughing up blood.” Tom’s voice goes weak and cracks in agony. “She’s gonna die.” Tom tries to regain his voice but it just comes out as a whined cry, completely drenched in heartache and devastation.

Tears cascade down Tom’s face and Harrison moves to hug him just as Tom nearly collapses in his arms. Tom sobs against his best friend, completely breaking and clinging to him to hold him up. Harrison uses his strength to keep Tom on his feet.

There’s this tiny part of Harrison that’s almost regretting ever showing up at your house. Had he not told you to just talk to Tom, maybe none of you would be here. Maybe Tom wouldn’t know and maybe it wouldn’t be bad. Maybe Tom wouldn’t be nearly wailing and losing every hope he’s regained. Or maybe the end result would still be the same. Harrison doesn’t know but there’s a part of him that wonders and regrets it.

“It’s alright, mate.” Harrison says. “She’s gonna be alright.” Harrison tries to reassure. “Let’s go inside, ya?” Harrison pats Tom’s back and pulls away, making sure Tom can actually stand on his own.

Tom looks to his best friend with bloodshot eyes, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah okay.” Tom nods, turning to go back into the ER entrance.

“You ring her dad?” Harrison asks.

“Said he was on his way.” Tom mumbles.

“Alright, well, did she say anything?” Harrison questions, the two taking seats in the empty waiting room. “Tom, what happened?” Harrison sighs.

“Dunno.” Tom hangs his head, both hands gripping the hoodie you were wearing. “She just woke up, said she was goin’ to the bathroom. I checked on her and she was coughing up blood.”

Harrison nods and rests a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Well, she’ll be okay.” Harrison says, trying to keep his hopes up.

“Yeah?” Tom turns to face him, venom lacing the word. “How the fuck do you know?”

Harrison shakes his head, removing his hand. “I don’t.” Harrison admits. “But I hope she will be.”

“Needs a heart.” Tom mumbles, looking away.

“And maybe she’ll get one.”

“Needs a fuckin’ miracle for that.” Tom scoffs.

“Then, for fuck’s sake, hope for one.” Harrison says, eyes wide and dark.

“Yeah.” Tom mutters.

“Y/n y/l/n, she was brought in by an ambulance with her boyfriend. Where is she?” Tom hears your dad’s voice and his head whips around to the nurse’s station. “I’m her father.” He’s not rude or demanding, just concerned.

“I’m paging her doctor now, sir.” The nurse that was talking to Tom told him.

Tom stands up, trying to take in a breath and he walks up to him. “Mr. y/l/n.” Tom tries to keep his voice steady.

“What happened?” Your dad questions, not daring to move away from the nurse’s station.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugs, his voice weak like a timid child. “I’m sorry.”

“I-” Your dad goes to talk but another nurse in dark blue scrubs starts walking up to them.

“Y/n y/l/n’s family?” He asks.

“I’m her dad,” Your dad says before jerking his head towards Tom. “Boyfriend.” He nods, glancing to Tom and back to your dad. “He’s fine.”

“Okay, Doctor Choi had to take her for surgery.” Tom’s heart stops at the words. “One of the valves in her heart ruptured.” Tom could feel the bile rising in his stomach, the nurse’s voice becoming like an annoying echo. “He’s going to try and repair it but I’ll come out and update when I can.”

“Is she…is she going to be okay?” Tom asks.

The nurse looks to your dad and back to Tom. “We’re doing what we can and Doctor Choi is one of the best. She got here quick.”

Tom nods, not asking anymore question knowing he wouldn’t be getting an answer he desperately needed and wanted. The truth was, that nurse knows the odds of survival when a valve ruptures. It’s not good. There’s a very small window to start operating and get the bleeding to stop but, this nurse also knows your case. He knows about the cardiomyopathy and your pacemaker you’ve only had a few months. This nurse knows the odds of everything and what happens even if the valve can be repaired but it’s not for him to sit down and discuss the what-ifs with Tom. Not now.

“Thank you.” Your dad says. “Come on, we can wait.” Your dad looks to Tom who just nods before going back to the waiting room and sitting beside Harrison.

“Y/n’s dad.” Your dad greets Harrison, his calm tone catching Harrison off guard.

“Harrison.” Harrison shakes his hand. “You want me to put the hoodie in my car?” Harrison asks, glancing to Tom’s hands and to Tom’s face.

Tom follows Harrison gaze before shaking his head. “Can do it.” Tom says, deciding he doesn’t need to hold onto it, a reminder of you and the scene he witnessed.

“Just lock it on your way back, parked around the corner on the second floor.” Harrison hands his keys over.

“Thanks.” Tom says, his voice deflated.

Your dad waits until Tom is completely away from them. “Do you know what happened?”

“Tom said she woke up to go to the bathroom and he went to check on and she was coughing up blood.” Harrison explains.

“Yeah, a valve ruptured.”

“How bad is that?” Harrison asks.

Your dad shakes his head. “Bad. It happened before and…” Your dad trails off with a lump cutting off his words. “She almost didn’t make it.”

Harrison nods. “I don’t think Tom knows.” Harrison whispers. “Is it alright if you don’t tell him much, yet? He’ll freak out and this is him on verge of losing his bloody mind.”

Your dad nods with understanding. “Yeah, need to know. You here for him?”

Harrison shrugs. “Both.”

Your dad nods once more. “Right, she’d like that.” He says and there’s like a realization of the situation taking over. “I gotta call her mom. If someone comes out-”

“I’ll get you.” Harrison reassures.

“Thank you.” He says standing up and exiting the building.

Tom is in the parking garage, letting go of the hoodie and it almost kills him because there’s that tiny bit of hope that maybe you will be fine. Maybe you’ll come out of surgery and you’re going to be okay. Tom now knows you better than anyone and he knows you’d want it. You’d want the hoodie because even though it’s been yours for months, you’ll say it still smells like him. But, there’s your blood staining the blue and orange and it’s sucking the hope out of Tom’s bones.

He leans against Harrison’s car, eyes closed and head up the ceiling. He can’t do this again and he loves you. He didn’t say it back. An entirely new wave of panic and agony paralyzes him. What if you don’t make it out? He never told you. He didn’t say it back. Tom told you he loved you before he’d fallen asleep but you were already asleep. He hasn’t said it since and what if you don’t make it out. He never said it back.

Tom pushes away from the car and goes back to the waiting room. The second he sees Harrison, he just blurts out, “I never said it back.”

“What?” Harrison asks, standing up to try and calm the panic on Tom’s face. “Didn’t say what?”

“I didn’t tell her I loved her. She said it and-and I didn’t say it back. I just froze I dunno. What if she dies and I don’t get to tell her again? She can’t die, Haz.” Tom chokes out, rambling the entire time, trying to keep the tears from spilling.

“Dude, breathe.” Harrison nods, hands on Tom’s shoulders.

“I can’t.” Tom cries out, his chest feeling like it’s constricting with his throat.

His head grows dizzy and nausea takes over. His knees go weak with his arms and everything is too loud and too much. His heart is beating a thousand miles an hour as he tries to gain his breath. He can technically breathe fine but there still doesn’t feel like there’s enough air getting to his lung. Tom’s face completely drains of color, eyes drenched in a sheet of panic.

“Can I get some help, please?” Harrison calls out and the nurse who was talking to Tom came over. “I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“Okay, here, hun. Sit down.” The nurse takes Harrison place. “Head between your knees and just breathe.” She coos, rubbing Tom’s back as he listens to her. “Does he get them often?”

Harrison shakes his head. “Just a few times but not for a long time, not like this.” Harrison explains.

“You’re alright.” The nurse says as Tom starts just barely getting control of his breathing. “I’m going to get you some water. I will be right back.” Tom nods and Harrison takes her place.

Harrison’s heart is settled in his stomach. He’s completely terrified of what you might be going through, what could happen to you. But, he’s mostly concerned for Tom right now. Tom’s his best friend and Harrison can’t control any of this. Tom has to go through the motions of waiting. No news is good news but no news doesn’t help either. Tom just has to wait and wait and wait and Harrison knows that’s likely lethal at this point.

“Here you go.” The nurse brings him a small cup with cooled water.

Tom takes it and sits up, taking a few sips.

“You alright now, mate?” Harrison asks.

Tom nods. “Think so.”

“Hey, you just need to breathe, okay? I know you’re worried about your girlfriend but she really is in the best hands.” The nurse reassures, holding a delicate smile. Tom nods once more as his hands shake. “I’ll be over there if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” Harrison thanks her. “Here.” Harrison takes the cup from Tom. “Gonna drop it.”

“She can’t die.” Tom whines.

“I know.” Harrison says as your dad comes back to the waiting room, his eyes now bloodshot.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Harrison answers.

“Y/n’s mom is getting on the first flight.” Your dad says mostly to Tom.

“Okay.” Tom says, gesturing his hand for the small, paper cup.

Harrison hands it back before moving to the seat next to Tom. Your dad is directly sat opposite Tom and that’s how the three of them stay. Every so often, your dad gets up to update your mom which isn’t much. The typical, no new is good news. Tom and Harrison pace a bit to stretch their legs, Tom to also try to keep his panic level down and his hopes up. He can’t stand sitting still. Not now. Not when he knows nothing. And it’s been hours. Two full hours of just waiting and hoping that you’re going to be okay.

But, it’s only a half hour later when a new doctor comes out, one Tom is guessing is Doctor Choi. Tom and your dad stand but Tom sits back down, realizing it’s no longer his place to hear anything. But, your dad allows the doctor to stay and let Tom hear the news first hand instead of needing to relay it back to him.

“I was able to repair the valve.” Doctor Choi says and all Tom can feel is relief with a sense of lingering dread. “But,” He takes in a breath, looking to the group of three. “Mr. y/l/n, I’m sorry she needs a new heart. We’ve put her on a ventilator.”

“1a.” Tom whispers, gaining the attention of your dad, Harrison, and Doctor Choi. “She told me 1a isn’t good. It’s the ventilator, miracle list. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Doctor Choi nods. “Yes, we’ve already contacted UNOS and are looking for a heart. She’s at the top of the list, now.”

“How long does she have?” Your dad asks.

Doctor Choi looks to the floor, and back to him. “A day, maybe a little more. The pacemaker is no longer helping. There’s just been too much damage, I’m afraid.”

Your dad nods and Tom’s brows furrow, stinging taking over his vision with a blurriness.

“I can take you to see her but we won’t be able to remove her from the vent unless a heart comes in. I am so sorry.”

Your dad runs a hand over his face. “I want to see her.”

“I’ll take you.” Doctor Choi says, looking to the boys.

“They’re fine.” Your dad reassures.

Doctor Choi nods and starts escorting them to the third floor of the building to the cardiac unit. It seemed like an eternity until they reached the floor and another one until they reached your room. When Tom saw you, his heart broke into a thousand pieces. There’s a large tube sticking out from your mouth and wires attached to a bunch of different monitors, all making different, rhythmic noises. Your chest is moving with the beeps, steady and calm but it’s only because of a machine. A machine is keeping you alive.

“I’ll be back to check on her later. She can hear you so, feel free to talk to her.” Doctor Choi says, leaving them alone.

The room remains silent with the three of them. Tom and your dad take seats on either side of you, Harrison on the other side of Tom. Tom holds your hand as tight as he can and he just wants that stupid bullshit miracle he doesn’t believe in to come through.

How could this happen to you? It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s never supposed to be like this but it is and there’s no coping, just fear and agony. You can’t tell him it’s okay. You can’t tell him that he can cry if he wants or yell and scream. You can’t say anything and Tom hates everything.

“I’m gonna update her mom.” Your dad says, excusing himself from the boys.

“Hey, do you want me to give you a minute?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah,” Tom says, glancing to him.

“I’ll be right back then, gotta make a call anyway.” Harrison says, getting up and leaving Tom alone with you.

Tom takes in a shaking breath as tears trickle down his face. He pulls your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your cold skin, already missing your warmth.

“You can’t do this. I don’t fuckin’ care what they say, you can pull through. You can’t die on me.” Tom whispers, voice begging and pleading. “Please, don’t die.” Tom tries to swallow the lump in his throat but all that escapes from his lips is a cry and a cough. “ _Please_ , don’t die.” Tom repeats. “I love you and I need you. I need you so you can’t die.” Tom’s words are slurred as his cries take over. “Don’t die.” Tom presses your hand to his forehead, sobbing uncontrollably. “I-I can’t…. _lose_  you.”


	24. numb

An hour goes by and then another, and another and soon, it’s five hours later. It’s reaching just about eight in the morning. Doctor Choi has stopped in only a few times to check on you but other nurses have been rotating out of the room all night. They check your vitals and ask your dad, Tom, and Harrison if they’re doing alright.

The three of them are sat uncomfortably but always say they’re fine. Every so often, your dad and Harrison have gotten up to walk, stretch, grab a snack from the vending machine, anything to get away from the constant beeping of monitors. But, Tom, on the other hand, hasn’t dared to move. 

There’s that fear in his head, trickling into his veins just like the medication that’s at a steady drip into your IV. If he leaves, there’s a chance your heart could fail. It happens, you said it yourself. That’s what happened to Alex. He didn’t make it the entire time they thought he did. What if the same thing happens to you and Tom isn’t there? He feels hopeless and helpless though, just sitting and waiting for a miracle. It’s exhausting and he’s exhausted. Tom’s slept for only two hours and that was at your apartment. He hasn’t gotten a second of sleep since he got to the hospital. Harrison and your dad have managed to doze off a few times, Harrison more so. But, Tom’s eyes stay open, drooping but open.

“Aye,” Harrison says, walking back into the room and gaining Tom’s attention. “Seb’s awake and she’s gonna bring me my wallet, forgot it when I left last night. Do you need anything?”

Tom glances to you and back to Harrison, letting out a sigh. “My wallet.” Tom mumbles.

“That all?” Harrison asks.

“She know how to get blood out of stuff?”

Harrison’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. “No clue. I’ll ask for you and have her wash the hoodie if you want.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Tom says. “Um,” He shakes his head. “Ember had food last night but I dunno-”

“I’ll have her check.” Harrison cuts him off.

“Can you?” Tom raises his brows.

Harrison shakes his head. “Nah, I’m not leaving.”

Tom rolls his eyes, looking back to you, his hand still holding hers. “You can.”

“I’m not going to though.” Harrison runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll go when you get sleep.”

“Not tired.” Tom mutters.

“Yeah? Sound and look like it so why don’t you sleep? I’ll wake you up.” Harrison presses.

Tom looks back to him, eyes burning from lack of sleep. “Can’t.”

“You can,” Harrison sighs and puts a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “A few minutes. I’ll wake you as soon as I get back from downstairs. Fifteen minutes and her dad should be back by then.”

Tom licks his lips and nods. “Yeah, alright.” He agrees reluctantly but figures fifteen minutes would allow him to function instead of letting his mind think the worst. “There’s a key under her mat.”

“Good.” Harrison says. “Be back.” Harrison says before exiting the room.

Tom leans back in his chair, his hand still able to hold onto yours. He leans one elbow on the arm of a chair and his hand in his hand. His eyes slowly close and he’s asleep within seconds.

With the coursing adrenaline a few hours prior, he didn’t worry about sleep at all but when the adrenaline starts pumping and then stops, there’s always a crash. It’s as if Tom just needed permission from someone he trusted that he could sleep. He could take a break. He’s earned a break to just close his eyes for a little bit.

Sometimes, sleep is for the best. It will pass time and that might seem like a horrible thing now that you have a very short window to live unless you get a heart, but you’re on a ventilator anyway. Tom can talk but you can’t respond. You can just lay there, asleep as the machine breathes for you. You wouldn’t be mad or curse Tom for taking a few hours of shuteye. You wouldn’t even be mad if he went home for a shower and deep down, Tom is very well aware of that. However, he refuses to listen to that part, choosing to stay.  _He doesn’t want to run this time._

* * *

_Tom’s head feels fogged, similar to a trance as his eyes are peeled open, staring around the room. Your dad is seated in his normal seat on the opposite side of your bed and Harrison is on the other side of him, texting someone Tom isn’t sure of. The lights are almost blinding and the constant beeping is driving him mad but a knock on the open glass door draws his attention away from the annoyance. Doctor Choi stands in the entrance and he seems happy, maybe a little too happy. Happiness makes Tom’s heart jump to his throat with hope that a miracle came through._

_And it did._

_“We found a heart.” Doctor Choi announces._

_Tom’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head while your dad glances to you and back to Doctor Choi before leaving his seat. Your dad, in a sudden rush, quickly hugs Doctor Choi. Tears of joy cloud his eyes while Harrison is patting Tom’s back. Tom looks to you, still on the ventilator and he’s speechless. Not a single word can come from his mouth because you’re going to be okay. Being optimistic has paid off and you’re going to be okay. His hand grabs yours, tighter than before and he just smiles, genuinely smiles and excitement starts to flood through his veins like a dam had just broken._

_“We’re going to prep her for surgery now.” Doctor Choi says, Tom’s attention being pulled to him once more._

_Tom sincerely can’t believe it. He always expects the worst but it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. Your clock isn’t close to running out and they’ve already found you a heart. You’ll get a new one and be able to be happy and healthy again._

_Your laugh. That’s what Tom is looking forward to. He wants to hear you laugh at his stupid jokes and he wants to hear you giggle whenever he tries to flirt with you. And, Tom is ready to hug you again. You give the best hugs and Tom’s never felt so cold without them but soon, your arms can be wrapped around him once more and the scent of your shampoo will consume him and everything will feel safe again, feel okay._

_But, then the monitors start going off._

_Doctor Choi’s face falls and Tom stands up, looking at the monitors and you, heart speeding out of his chest like a funny car driving down a quarter mile track. Doctor Choi moves to you quickly, calling for help. The straight beep starts to fill the room and Tom’s mouth runs dry as he’s frozen in place. Doctor Choi is pressing a button, calling a code and nurses rush in. One is pulling Tom away and the others are circling you._

_“What’s going on?” Tom asks, panic in his voice as one of the nurses start removing the vent._

_“Get them out of here.” Doctor Choi demands after ordering a nurse to give you medication, a nurse moving to the group of three to remove them._

_Tom pulls away, not daring to move. “No!” He yells at the nurse. “She’s getting a heart, right?” Tom is staring down at the nurse and all she can do is tell him to leave._

_“You can’t be in here anymore.” She says, trying to keep her voice calm._

_“C’mon, let them help her.” Harrison says, pulling Tom’s shoulder._

_Doctor Choi orders another round of medication as Tom continues to fight. You seem so frail under the pressure of the CPR and it’s traumatizing. The flatline beep is cursing Tom’s hearing over the rustling of nurses and Doctor Choi._

_“Let me the fuck go!” Tom screams back at Harrison. “I’m not leaving!” Tom’s voice cracks._

_“Get them out of here!” Doctor Choi glances over his shoulder once more._

_“Now, or I’ll call security to have them escort you out of here.” The nurse’s voice loses its calm tone._

_“Call, don’t fuckin’ care. I’m not going anywhere!” Tom yells in the nurse’s face, fear and dread filling his senses and right mind._

_Doctor Choi stops his movements, looking to the monitors and back to you. Nurses look to him, eyes filled with lost hope and sadness. Harrison is trying to pull Tom away but Tom is glued to the floor, refusing to move and the nurse can’t move him. It’s like it’s all happening in slow motion again. This can’t be happening._

_“Help her!” Tom screams. Doctor Choi looks back to him and to the nurses, his head shaking. “No! That’s your fuckin’ job! To help her!” Tom screams, Harrison now trying to pull him back with both hands, barely getting Tom to move as he fights his best friend off._

_“Time of death–”_

_“This is your fuckin’ job! You said she was getting a heart!” Tom screams and fights off Harrison moving fully back into the room._

_“I’m sorry fo-”_

_“Keep trying!” Tom hollers, grabbing Doctor Choi by the collar of his white coat, Harrison is quick on Tom, trying to pull him off._

_“C’mon, let go.” Harrison says._

_“Keep going!” Tom cries, his grip not loosening as he shakes Doctor Choi._

_“I will call-”_

_“Fuck off with it, just help her!” Tom’s ears flare red as a few nurses are trying to pull him off of Doctor Choi. “You said she’d get a heart!” There’s noise coming from the hall as security starts to come through._

_“Get him off of me or sedate him!” Doctor Choi yells._

_“Just give her the fuckin’ heart!” Tom screams, going to pull back his fist, something he’d never actually do, but Harrison catches it and yanks him off of the doctor._

_Tom fights Harrison the entire time, crying and screaming in desperation. He’s pleading for them to keep trying, to do something else. There has to be something more they can do. Tom doesn’t understand why you can be on the list and not get the heart when it was right there. If your heart fails, they should still be able to give you this heart. Why can’t they keep trying? None of it makes sense and he just needs them to keep trying. So, he fights, yells, anything to try and get Harison’s grip to lighten up when a sharp quick pain hits Tom’s arm._

_“Please, just help her!” Tom cries out as his body starts to relax._

_“Time of death,” Doctor Choi starts to say again, looking at the clock._

_“Please,” Tom pleads, eyes starting to close as Harrison helps him to the floor before he completely passes out._

* * *

 

Tom jolts awake as slight pressure is put on his shoulders. He nearly lets out a yell at the sudden contact but his eyes snap open, heart speeding out of his chest. Monitors beep at a steady rate and Tom’s eyes land on you, still breathing with the ventilator. Tom takes in a deep breath and leans back in his chair, running his hands over his face.

“Aye, you alright, mate?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah,” Tom says. “Was a dream.”

Shame starts to come through Tom. The last thing he needs right now are nightmares but his brain doesn’t seem to care what he needs or wants. He doesn’t need to be reminded that there’s a countdown and anything can happen in that time window. He hates it. He is fucking helpless and he just has to live with it. And, part of him is stuck on this. What if you die and these nightmares start up again? Regularly? What if they start merging together and it’s all a horror show all over again? Tom is strong, but he’s not strong enough to go through it again. He promised he would be, but he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep.

Harrison nods, eyes saddened and scared for his friend. “Seb’s just left. She’s going to y/n’s for you and she’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thanks.” Tom says, leaning forward again. “Did anyone say anything?” His voice is hesitant as he looks to Harrison.

“Nah, sorry.” Harrison shakes his head, blonde curls moving softly. “Uh,” He goes to rub the back of his neck. “Her parents are here though, could give them a bit.”

Tom looks to the glass doors and sees your mom being embraced in a hug by your dad. “Yeah, alright, Okay.” Tom says, releasing your hand as he stands up.

He leans over you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His lips press to your forehead softly, Tom carefully avoiding the tubing coming from your mouth. He doesn’t want to leave but it’s not right for your parents to not get to be alone with their daughter. Harrison might not be able to get him to leave and get proper rest, but your parents can at least get him to wander around and stretch his legs a bit. Tom has the respect and decency for them as well as you. You’d be pissed if he refused to leave.

Tom and Harrison leave the room and allow your parents inside for time alone. They exchange sorrow-filled smiles as they pass each other but no words are exchanged. Harrison decides to walk Tom to the vending machine on the first floor, trying to get his head distracted from everything that’s going on and overwhelming dread that’s surely killing him. Harrison talks but Tom just nods, staring blankly as they pass a nurse here and there and a patient, rooms filled with people and TVs playing softly. Harrison notices Tom not really paying attention but that doesn’t stop him. He just wants to be a distraction. It’s horrible to feel helpless and that’s all he feels right now so he can only imagine what’s going through Tom’s head. What could possibly be going through his head all over again.

“What do you want?” Harrison switches topics as they approach the vending machine.

Tom looks over the selection and shrugs his shoulders. “Not hungry.”

Harrison sighs as he puts money into the machine. “You’ve got to eat something. When’s the last time you ate?”

Tom, normally, would send Harrison a harsh glare but in this moment, he just feels paralyzed. Everything feels blank and like he’s just going through the motions. He’s not really there or anything. He’s not completely breathing or living, he’s just existing in this moment with his friend. No emotion, just numb.

“Dunno, nine.” Tom mumbles, eyes staring at the machine still.

Harrison presses a few buttons and a bag of Cheetos falls. He picks it up and hands it over. “Just eat, alright?”

“Why? I’m not fuckin’ hungry.” Tom almost snaps but his voice doesn’t rise.

“Because food is good for you. It will give you energy and I’m your best mate so eat the damn Cheetos.” Harrison demands, turning back to the machine.

“You don’t have to babysit me.” Tom mumbles, fiddling with the bag of food.

“Someone has to.” Harrison retorts. “And don’t start shit, alright? Someone needs to make sure you’re not losing your shit and I’m that person whether you like it  or not.” Tom remains silent, something completely uncharacteristic. Harrison turns around and cocks a brow. “Not gonna try and argue?”

Tom shakes his head. “Not worth it.” Tom looks to the side, rolling his shoulders and starts walking down the hall.

Harrison quickly grabs his snack and follows Tom’s lead. “Where are you going?” Harrison asks, opening his bag of chips.

“Somewhere to talk.” Tom’s voice is hushed and Harrison understands as he sees the signs.

“Yeah, okay.” Harrison says, deciding not to ask any questions and let Tom do whatever he needs to do.

They follow the signs that lead them to a large chapel. There’s no one inside which is what Tom was hoping for. Regardless of religious viewpoints, sometimes there’s a strange comfort in being able to sit down in an open area and just talk. Not to anyone specific but just…speak. There’s no judgment and others do it, too while remaining respectful and keeping their voice low. But, that’s the thing. Within a chapel, even when it’s empty, sometimes just voicing what’s going through one’s mind can ease the sense of complete hopelessness, loneliness, and helplessness. Tom just needs to speak for a minute and try to regain a little bit of hope.

Tom hands off his unopened food to Harrison nd takes a seat in a pew while Harrison stays in the hall, deciding to just let Tom do his thing. Tom looks to his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers before wiping his hands on his pants. He still has his pajama pants on, a few small dark blotches decorte the blue fabric. He sighs and closes his eyes for a few seconds.

He takes in a shaky breath. “I, uh, don’t know if anyone’s out there.” Tom’s voice is barely a whisper as his eyes go back to his hands. “But, if there is, I dunno.” He licks his lips and lets a few beats pass. “The universe or….something, I-just someone out there, don’t let her die.” Tom looks up as his vision starts to go blurry. “Please, if someone is out there listening, do not let her die. I-I can't….she doesn’t deserve it.” His voice is broken with every word that leaves his lips. “I don’t deserve her but she….she picked me anyway and she can’t die. She’s too good.”

A noise from the back of the chapel pulls Tom’s attention. A woman in a yellow sundress, tears just glistening her face in the dimmed light as she takes a seat a few rows behind Tom. She bows her head and Tom turns back around. He can her softly start whispering to herself which makes him feel like he can continue.

“Bad things happen to good people….but, please don’t let this bad thing happen to her. She’s…she’s everything I wish I could be and everything anyone should be. Please, do not take her from me.  _Please_.” Tom wipes the tears that are slowly spilling from his eyes before going silent.

He sits in the silence for a few minutes, just letting time pass. There’s comfort in the silence. No beeping counting down the seconds. Just, quiet besides the woman’s soft whispers. And, for some reason, that silence is allowing Tom to breathe for just a few minutes. It allows him to gather himself. He’s gotten his words off his chest and his head is still throbbing from the persistent noise and lack of sleep, but he can breathe. He can think a little straighter. It helps.

After a few minutes, Tom wipes the few stray tears before getting up, deciding he’s said all he can and maybe he should allow the woman to herself.

Tom exits the chapel and sees Harrison on his phone, eating the bag of his chips. “Hey.” Tom gets his attention and Harrison looks up, locking his phone.

“Better?” Harrison asks, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket.

Tom shakes his head. “Not really.” Harrison’s eyes are sad as he nods. “Kind of, yeah.” Tom admits, the feeling of being able to speak freely in an open room without judgment settling in.

“You want to head back up then?” Harrison asks, handing Tom his bag of Cheetos.

“Yeah,” Tom nods once, opening the bag.

“Good.” Harrison says and jerks his head, his heart feeling like the smallest weight has been lifted.

“Seb?” Tom asks as the boys walk through the hall.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Harrison states, shaking his head and eating another chip.

“Don’t wanna talk about anything else and kind of want somethin’ to distract me, ya know?” Tom admits.

Harrison’s eyes widen and he nods simply, content that his friend is trying to stay sturdy now. Not wallowing in pity or sadness, he wants a distraction. Harrison’s relieved.

“Yeah, she was over last night when you texted.” Harrison states, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah?” Tom pushes.

“Kind of y/n’s idea to talk to her because I had her talk to you and told her not to give up.”

Tom lets out a chuckle, the first light-hearted sound to escape his mouth in hours. “Of course she did.”

“Hey, it worked, kind of.” Harrison says. “Still got a lot of work and talking to do but we’re making progress.”

“I’m happy for ya, mate.” Tom looks to him, a half smile on his face that’s very much forced but Harrison accepts it, knowing Tom is being sincere with his words.

“Thanks.” Harrison says.

The rest of the walk, Harrison talked about how him and Seb are going to try and sort out their issues between each other and how much he does like her. While Tom isn’t great conversation for the time being, he is enjoying hearing Harrison talk about his relationship with Seb. It’s something that’s keeping his mind busy. Of course, he feels guilty for letting his mind get distracted but on the other hand, his head is pounding and he just needs something to help and hearing about Harrison and Seb is helping. He’s happy for his friend, maybe his friend can find happiness with someone.

When Tom and Harrison reach your room, your parents are sat next to each other, hands locked together and eyes drenched in sorrow. The boys decide to wait outside until one of them gives them the okay to re-enter the room, careful not to disturb them but it isn’t long before your mom notices them. She nudges her husband and the two get up to meet the boys.

“Would it be alright if we had a word with Tom alone?” Your mom asks Harrison kindly.

“Yeah, I’ll go.” Harrison nods, jerking his head towards your room and heading in there.

“Doctor Choi said you called the ambulance?” Your mom asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

“He said had you just driven her here or waited,” Your mom’s voice catches in her throat. “It would have been too late.”

“I-it wasn’t quick enough though.” Tom looks into her room, Harrison taking Tom’s usual place.

“No,” Your dad says. “You were. Once something like this happens, in a state like y/n was in, they almost always end up on a vent.” Your dad explains.

Tom hangs his head. “We went boxing earlier, it didn’t have anything to do with that…did it? She wasn’t working hard or anything, I made sure she took breaks and drank water.”

“No, no, of course not.” Your mom says quickly. “This just happens. Her heart was already weakening. You did good, Tom.”

Tom nods, his eyes starting to gloss over. The three of them go back into the room and Harrison moves to allow Tom his seat back. Conversation starts and stops as time goes by. Tom mostly nods along, forcing smiles when need be but his mouth mostly remains closed and dry, eyes on you.

The sight of you is depressing on its own. Someone once so full of life now solely relying on a machine to keep you breathing. Your smile isn’t lighting up the room and your laugh isn’t lightening the mood. Nothing. A constant stream of beeps is all they get and it’s depressing. But, watching Tom just stare and see his eyes slowly start losing hope as the hours tick by, that’s worse. It’s as if there are two people just disintegrating in front of their eyes.

But, the look of hopeless sadness is overcome with fear the second Doctor Choi steps into the room. His face looks almost relieved and he has scrubs on, not a white coat. Everyone’s eyes are on him and it’s a little too similar to Tom’s dream.

“We have a heart.” Doctor Choi says.

Your mom audible gasps and Harrison pats Tom’s back. “She’s getting a heart?” Your mom asks, disbelief in her voice.

“It’ll be here within the hour. It’s coming from county so we’re going to take her and prep her now.” Doctor Choi smiles, genuinely smiles at the parents who never lost hope.

Tom’s heart races as he hopes this isn’t another nightmare and, by the looks of it, it doesn’t seem like it. Your dad thanks him and nurses and the transport team come in and start getting ready to move you.

It’s real. You’re going to be taken to surgery where a new heart will be replacing your old one and it’s not a dream. And now, Tom the usual pessimist, feels the most hopeful he has in his entire life.

You might just be okay.


	25. no more waiting

The transport team took you to the OR and that left your parents, Tom, and Harrison to wait in a waiting room. Tom wants to be relieved with everyone else and he is but not as much as he’d like to be. He knows something can go wrong in surgery and you could die on the table.

The heart could have been damaged during transport. The heart could simply not work after they transplant it. You can reject it. But these aren’t the worst thoughts running through his head. What if the surgery goes perfect but you still never wake up? It happens. It could happen to you and Tom is just anxiety ridden with the thought.

“I don’t remember the last thing I said to her.” Tom states, eyes focused at the wall in front of him.

“What?” Harrison asks, brows furrowed as he looks away from his phone.

“Told her I loved her but she was sleeping. Don’t remember what I said last when she was awake.” Tom turns his head, locking eyes with the hopeful blue eyes of his best friend.

Harrison shakes his head and stands up. “C’mon, Seb’s here with our stuff.” Harrison chooses not to respond to Tom’s statement.

There’s nothing Harrison can say to make Tom feel better. He’s said all he can. Harrison has said, over and over in the hours they’ve been at the hospital that you’ll be okay and Tom did everything he could. There’s nothing left to say. Now, all he can do is try and distract his friend with someone else while the surgery takes place.

“Sorry.” Tom nods, standing up. He nods to your parents who were just coming back into the waiting room after grabbing coffees for themselves.

“What for?” Harrison asks as they start walking, an agreement between your parents and them that if any news came, they’d call them immediately that way any of them would be able to walk if they needed to.

Tom licks his lips, shrugging one shoulder. “Sounding depressing all night.”

“Nah,” Harrison grabs Tom’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it as the two made their way to the hospital entrance. “It’s understandable. I’d be the same if I were you.”

Tom doesn’t say anything else, allowing the space between them to fall silent. They made their way to the entrance where Harrison told Seb to go. When they got outside, the warm air and bright sun rushing them, they saw Seb leaning against her car, sunglasses covering her eyes. She leaned off her car when she saw the boys, making her way towards them.

“Hey, how is everything?” Seb asks, concern in her voice as she puts her sunglasses on top of her head.

Tom shrugs. “Haven’t heard anything.”

“I’m sorry.” Seb says, eyes sincere before glancing to Harrison who just mouths to not ask. “Well, here’s your wallets.” Seb pulls out their belongings. “And here’s y/n’s keys. They were on the table and I didn’t know if you had yours.” Seb hands Tom your keys, the beaded keychain with your name clinking against the metal of the keys. “Ember has plenty of food, too and I’ve got your hoodie soaking. I’ll be able to get the blood out no problem and I’ll bring it back for you when it’s clean.”

“Thanks.” Tom forces a smile with his words, stuffing your keys and his wallet into his pockets.

“Yeah, of course.” Seb nods. “Well, I totally brought you guys some McDonald’s.” Seb smiles, turning on her heels to walk back to her car.

Tom opens his mouth to say he wasn’t hungry but Harrison nudged him with his shoulder. “Thank you.” Harrison says. “I asked her to bring us food, said we hadn’t eaten much all night.”

“I won’t let you guys starve.” Seb chuckles, opening her car door to reveal two paper bags. “Courtyard is just around the corner and we can eat there.” Seb smiles at the boys, handing Harrison the bags before shutting her car door.

“You really didn’t have to.” Tom says as they make their way to the grassed area designated for patients and guests.

“Eh, owed Harrison one or two and y/n might be nice as fuck but I think she’d still have my damn head if I let you starve.” Seb rolls her eyes but her voice is light.

“Yeah, probably.” Tom barely chuckles a response.

“Probably?” Harrison chimes in. “She would. All she cares about is making sure your dumbass is okay. So,” Harrison plops down on the grass. “Eat.” He opens the bag as Tom and Seb take their seats on the grass.

Tom rolls his eyes, taking the Big Mac from Harrison’s hand. “Stop tellin’ me what to do.” Tom unwraps the food and Harrison grins.

“And who would I be if I stopped doing that?” Harrison questions, opening the box to his own burger.

“Less annoying.” Tom quips, taking a bite.

“He’s got a point, Haz.” Seb smirks, taking out her food.

“Hey!” Harrison yells.

“Thank you.” Tom chuckles, genuinely chuckles. “Knew you were alright.”

“Alright? I’m amazing.” Seb retorts, taking a bite of her chicken nugget.

“Her ego doesn’t need the boost, mate.” Harrison jokes.

“Oh, my ego’s big?” Seb looks at Harrison, brows raised and jaw open. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Harrison laughs as Seb lightly shoves him. “Not that big.”

Tom lightly laughs with them, watching them interact and he can’t help but wonder if that’s how him and you look like together. Smiling, happy, like you’re the only two people in the world even when someone else is right there.

Harrison is happy with Seb, happy to be around her and happier than Tom has ever seen him and all he can do is be happy for his friend and wonder if him and you look like that. But, the wondering does stop the second Harrison stops laughing and he just looks at Seb. He looks at Seb the way you look at Tom and Tom knows. Of course him and you look like that when you’re around each other. And Tom hopes to everything in the world that you two can look like that again.

Tom finishes up his food and he makes decent conversation with Seb and Harrison. The time moves slowly but he forces himself to stay outside for an hour. It took everything in him not to scarf down his food and run back inside but the sun is out and birds are singing, the weather isn’t too hot and the grass is bright green beneath him. It’s a good, bright day and he’s leaning on hope so he made himself wait an hour.

Tom excuses himself to allow Harrison and Seb some time alone. Harrison offers to go back in with Tom but Tom turns him down and there’s this soft lightness in Tom’s voice that gives Harrison the okay. But, as Harrison is Harrison, he reached for his phone and kept it out while Tom made his way inside just in case Tom texted him and needed him again.

When Tom reaches the hall to the waiting room, he sees the side profile of Doctor Choi with your parents. They’re standing and talking. Tom’s heartbeat skyrockets and all he can hear is a constant thumping in his ears as his feet start to drag until he comes to stop, just a few yards away.

He stands in the middle of the hallway, terrified of what he’ll hear if he approaches. He’s terrified of being able to see anyone’s faces clearly and he’s just paralyzed. Doctor Choi is standing there relaying some type of news and Tom can’t move. Not until your mom reacts.

She hugs him.

Your mom hugs Doctor Choi while your dad runs his hands over his face, smile brighter than the fluorescent lights above him. Your parents hug each other and Doctor Choi is smiling, happy. The happiness radiates all the way to Tom, allowing him to start walking, making sure the reactions are real and he’s not completely out of his mind. That maybe he’s not dreaming.

And he’s not.

He approaches and your mom is the first to notice him. “She’s okay.” She says, quickly.

“She is?” Tom asks, brows raised and knitted together in relief and disbelief.

“I can take you to see her now if you want. She’s still sleeping but she should be awake soon.” Doctor Choi states to all three of them.

Tom lets out a sigh of relief and his eyes burn with tears of joy. His legs start to go weak and a hard lump forms in his throat. He chokes it down and a smile comes to his face as your mom pulls him into a hug.

“Thank you.” She whispers as she pulls away.

“For what?” Tom asks.

“Had you not been there,” Your mom starts but stops her.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nods quickly.

“Ready to see her?”

Tom nods, looking to your dad and then to Doctor Choi. Doctor Choi leads the three of them to your room and Tom’s hands grow clammy on the walk there. He’s nervous to see you and it’s a strange feeling finally coursing through him. It’s no longer fear, just nervousness. Nervousness is still uneasy but it’s so much better than being afraid. And the second his eyes land on you, the nervousness melts away and he’s no longer numb and he can breathe. You’re not on the vent anymore and you don’t look ill anymore.

“I’ll leave you alone.” Doctor Choi says.

“Thank you, so much.” Your dad says, shaking Doctor Choi’s hand before entering the room behind his wife, Tom following after.

The three take their seats, you parents on one side and Tom on the other. Tom sends Harrison a quick text to let him know but promises he’s fine and Harrison can stay downstairs with Seb if he wants until you wake up. It’s not long before your mom decides to call your uncle, update him and his wife which leaves Tom and your dad alone.

“Are you doing alright, there?” Your dad breaks the silence, looking at Tom.

“Oh, yeah.” Tom nods, looking away from you and to your dad. “She’s just, really gonna be okay?”

Your dad nods, looking to you. “Doctor Choi said the surgery went as well as it could have and she should be fine.” A gentle smile comes to your dad’s face with his words.

“Seems she got her miracle.” Tom says, looking back to you.

“Yes, but,” Your dad scoffs. “She got her miracle the second you walked into my shop.”

Tom looks back to him, face contorted in confusion. “What?”

Your dad sighs. “Did she tell you about NYU?” Tom shakes his head. “She got a full ride scholarship for creative writing and then gave it up.”

“What? Why?” Tom questions, knowing your not a bucket list contains getting a novel published.

“She was sick, had to have surgery. Alex was here. When she was diagnosed, she stopped doing all sorts of things she enjoyed. She was happy but according to her mother, y/n always had hope for this but she doesn’t like things unfinished. She didn’t want to start school just for it to be left open. She stopped spending her money after Alex died. Hopeful as my daughter is, she was preparing to die, I think. Them, you showed up.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but…what’s that got to do with me?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her this happy. A long time, too long. I was wrong about you.” Your dad shakes his head, swallowing his pride. “You’re good for her. You, for some reason, showed her how to live again and that’s the miracle she needed. You gave her a reason to really live again, not just exist.   So, thank you.”

“Thanks for giving me the chance.” Tom says, eyes on you before moving back to your dad.

“You’re welcome.” Your dad gives Tom a slight smile.

Your mom comes back after updating a few family members and a few minutes later, Harrison was back, sitting beside Tom. And the four of them wait, again. Minutes turned into half an hour and half an hour turned into an hour and the relief Tom was feeling was starting to wear off. He wasn’t sure how long someone normally stays asleep after surgery.

After his accident, he had surgery on his leg but he doesn’t remember hardly anything the first day or even the second day after so he doesn’t have that to base this off of. A nurse came in to check on you and she didn’t seem too worried which seemed good. Before nurses always looked a bit forlorn, now, this nurse looks content.

Another hour goes by and Tom’s growing to hate the sound of the monitors again, but, then it happens. Your hand squeezes his hand and his eyes shoot up to you. Your eyes flutter open and manage the smallest smile Tom’s ever seen. Your eyes move to your parents and within seconds, everyone in the room is on their feet.

“Hey.” You say, voice hoarse and groggy.

“Hey, honey. You’re awake.” Your mom says quietly.

“I’ll get a nurse.” Harrison says, quickly exiting the room,

“What happened?” You look to Tom and back to your parents.

“Valve rupture.” Your dad answers, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Ow.” You say. “And?”

“You’re lucky.” Your dad says with a wide smile, eyes glossing over. “They found a heart.”

“What?” You ask, voice growing louder. “They did?”

“Guess your optimism pays off, ya?” Tom manages to find words.

Your eyes soften as you look back to him and only one thing comes to mind. “Hi, Tommy.” You manage a bigger smile with the sight of him.

_He stayed._

The nurse and Harrison come back in before either of you can say anything else. “Doctor Choi will be here in just a minute.” The nurse assures as she checks over the monitors.

Sure enough, Doctor Choi was in your room in no time and he was going over post-op checks, making sure you were okay and everything’s fine. Tom watched, giving plenty of space and as Doctor Choi talked to you, his heart swelled in his chest. Your voice is still tired and your eyes are drooping with sleep but you’re smiling and he can hear your voice. Out of all the outcomes, you pulled through and Tom knows he has to be patient but all he wants now is to hug you.

“Everything looks good. Do you feel okay?” Doctor Choi asks.

“Kind of hurts and I’m tired but yeah.” You answer.

“We’ll get you some more morphine for the pain. Looks like you’re gonna be just fine.”

“How long am I in here for then, Doc?” You question.

“At least ten days.”

“Gross.” You chuckle.

“Just think of how great outside food will taste when you get out here.”

“Wait. I can eat whatever I want.” You smirk with a cheerful voice.

Doctor Choi laughs. “Try not to go overboard, fast food still isn’t good for you.”

“Okay.” You laugh.

“Well, I’ll leave you all alone and I’ll check in later.” Doctor Choi says, nodding at everyone before leaving.

You look to your parents, to Tom, and then back to your parents. “Can I have a minute with Tom please?”

Your mom nods. “Yeah, we’ll be outside.”

Your parents leave the room and Harrison gives a soft nod to you before exiting himself to allow you and Tom to yourselves. Tom steps forward and grips your hand but stays standing. More anxiety seems to flood through his veins but not because he’s afraid you’re randomly going to slip through some weird crack but because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he should apologize or start confessing his undying love for you. He doesn’t know if he should just stay silent and let you talk. Everything seems new again, but a good new.

“Have you eaten?” You ask and Tom laughs, hanging his head and loose curls fall onto his forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, Seb brought Haz and me some food.”

“Good, you okay, then?”

Tom’s eyes dart across your face as he licks his lips. His eyes start to gloss over and his heart jumps to his throat. “I thought you were gonna die, ya know? So, uh….yeah now I am but don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t be.” Tom shakes his head.

“That was scary.” You admit, your own eyes glossing over remembering everything before falling unconscious in the ambulance. “I-I thought, I thought I was gonna die.” Your voice wavers and Tom takes the initiative to lean over you and wrap you in a hug, minding the wires attached to your chest.

You lean up and wrap your arms around him, burying your head into his shoulder. Your eyes close as you can smell his lingering shampoo and the cologne that was almost completely faded, tell-tale signs he hasn’t showered yet. Tom presses soft and delicate kisses to your temple and forehead, making sure to stay as gentle as possible as if you were porcelain and any wrong pressure could cause you to shatter.

“I love you, ya know?” Tom whispers against your ear.

“I love you, too.” You whisper the broken words.

“I mean…a lot,” Tom pulls away and cups your face. “More than anythin’.” Your eyes lock with his as you lean into his touch. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back in the ambu-”

“Sh,” You hush him, your hands coming to his. “It’s okay, I already knew.”

“I was hoping’ ya did.” Tom smiles faintly.

“You wanna kiss me, don’t you?” You smirk, noticing the glancing of Tom’s eyes from yours to your lips.

“So much.” Tom chuckles before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle and delicate, careful not to overstep all over again. You’re in pain and you’re exhausted so the kiss is just soft and home. Safe and comfortable just like the inside of your apartment in the middle of winter. It’s just like being wrapped in your biggest blanket, bundled up and watching the snow fall in complete contentment. And it’s just what Tom needs, too, like the summer road trip with his friends and the late night bonfires. The warmth of a large fire and happy sounds of booming laughter. It’s everything the two of you needed.

You pull away and the two of you rest your foreheads against each other. “I’m sorry about your hoodie.”

“Seb’s getting the blood out of it for ya.” Tom grins, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “I knew you’d want it back and she knew how to get dried blood out of clothes.”

“Thanks, Tom.” You smile, kissing his cheek. “Ember?”

“All fed and good.” Tom affirms.

“You’re on top of things.” You state, surprise in your voice.

Tom shrugs, pulling away and gripping your hands again. “Didn’t wanna let you down.”

“I don’t think you can at this point.” You grin, ear to ear.

“I hope not.” Tom’s voice is calm and honest.

“But, hey, is it okay if I talk to Harrison?”

Tom’s brows furrow but he nods. “Yeah, I’ll send him in.” Tom leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You watch Tom leave, catching notice in the fact he still has his pajama pants on. You roll your eyes, guessing that means he hasn’t dared to leave in the time you’ve been out. Doctor Choi said you were unconscious for about nineteen hours including surgery time. It doesn’t sound that long, not to you, but when you think about the fact Tom has probably been in a state of sheer panic the entire time, you know it must have felt like an eternity. You’ve been in his position and when it happened to Alex, an hour felt like a lifetime.

“Hey.” Harrison chimes as he enters the room.

“Hey, Harrison.” You greet while Harrison takes a seat beside your bed.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m tired.” You say.

“You look it.” Harrison nods.

“I wanted to thank you for being here for Tom. I know he’s your friend and you would have done it anyway but…still. Thanks.”

Harrison sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, he’s my best mate and I’d have been here no matter what but, ya know, I wasn’t just here for him. You’re my friend, too and you had me worried as fuck. I was here for both of you.”

“You were?” You quirk a brow. You’re aware you and Harrison are by definition friends but you just didn’t expect him to stay for you or be that worried to stay.

“Yeah,of course.” Harrison says as if you should have known better. “I kind of look at you like a sister in a way.”

“Thanks, Harrison.” Your words are sincere.

“Don’t mention it.”

“So, first, he hasn’t left…has he?”

Harrison chuckles. “Farthest we got him to leave was out in the courtyard. Wouldn’t leave you.”

“I was worried about that.”

“Yeah,” Harrison shrugs. “But he’s okay. I mean, he’ll probably have a few nightmares so you know but,” Harrison pauses for a few beats. “He’s alright, really. Shaken up and on edge but he’s okay.”

“That’s a relief.” You smile.

“Yeah, right?” Harrison grins. “But he would have gone out of his fucking mind had something happened. You make him have hope but he was worried.”

“I’d go out of my freaking mind if something happened to him…ever.”

“Good thing you’re both alright, then, ya?” Harrison’s eyes widen, almost teasing.

“Finally.” You state. “So, second thing, Seb, huh?”

Harrison laughs. “You should sleep.”

“Come on. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You joke.

“You’re not funny.” Harrison shakes his head but a soft laugh falls from his lips. “Alright, we talked and we’re getting back into things. I owe you one.”

“Nope.” You shake your head. “We’re even. I got Tom.”

“Yeah, yeah you do.” The room falls silent for a few seconds. “Really, I’m happy you’re okay.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll let Tom and your parents back in. Tom probably won’t want to leave for the first day or two so if you want, I’ll take care of Ember for you guys. He won’t listen to you if you tell him to leave.”

“Yeah that’d be great but I’m gonna try and get him out.” You state. “At least for a little bit.”

“I hope you can.” Harrison says with a tug of his lips. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.” Harrison leans over your bed and gives you a quick hug.

Your parents walk in without Tom, wanting some time alone with you first. Your mom catches you up on family she’s updated and your dad says Frankie has been worried, covering the shop but wants to come by the following day to see you. You’re happy to agree and say your family can come as well by the end of the week.

By the time your parents were done catching you up, sleep was calling your name. The nurse had already upped the morphine drip and you were just ready to sleep but not before you asked your parents to allow Tom back in the room, asking them to eat figuring they’ve both been starving themselves while you’ve been in the hospital.

Tom walks back in and takes his seat next to you, grabbing your hand just as he’s done every other time. “You should sleep.” He says softly.

“You should move up here and sleep with me.” You say quietly.

Tom’s eyes go wide as he looks to the door. “Are you sure?” He looks back to you. “Is it safe?”

“Yes,” You giggle.

_God, Tom has missed that sound._

“It’s fine. Please.” You plead with a smile.

“Okay.” Tom says, getting up, a gentle smile on his lips.

You move over and Tom moves onto the bed with you. His arm comes around your shoulder, careful not to squish or detach any of the wires sticking out from your gown. Your head falls onto his shoulder the second Tom gets comfortable. The TV playing basic cable plays and Tom kisses the top of your head. Your arm is slung around his waist, your hand gripping his hoodie.

“You need to shower.” You mumble, almost asleep.

“Gee, thanks, love.” Tom laughs.

“No,” You manage to pick your head up to look at him. “Because you’ve been here the entire time. You’re still in your pajamas.”

“Oh,” Tom chuckles, cheeks turning red. “I will.”

“But, not tonight. Tonight you can stay.” You say.

“I was gonna anyway.” Tom kisses your lips softly. “Now, please sleep.” His lips move to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Mhm.” You hum, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I love you, Tommy.” You say just barely a whisper.

“I love you, too.” Tom whispers, kissing the top of your head and rubbing soft circles against her shoulder just before sleep takes you.


	26. epilogue

Hours passed and you still slept. You woke up here and there when nurses came to check on you and when Tom had gotten up to allow them to check but the second they left you alone, you fell right back asleep. There was a sense of ease throughout the room now. Your parents came and went freely. Harrison was in and out and even Tom felt like he could at least use the bathroom without fearing the worst. He still wasn’t leaving your side but he did feel relief, real relief and that’s what really matters.

The first night went by and it consisted of you waking up a few times from the pain. Your mom was quick to call in a nurse and if it wasn’t your mom, Tom was the one. It pained him to see you in pain and he couldn’t help but think back to that fateful night on your bathroom floor.

You were so gentle with him when you had no reason to be and you were kind, already so loving with him while you looked at him with pain in your eyes because of the blood and agony he was in. Tom knows how you felt that night and he can’t help but make a mental note to apologize once more for putting you through that, but to also thank you for sticking by him.

As more days went by, you were able to convince Tom to go into work with Frankie who did stop by the day after your surgery and just go home for a little bit. Tom, being Tom, was reluctant but he listened and it felt good. It felt good to get out of the hospital and for him to feel his phone vibrate knowing it’d be alright. Of course, there’s this tiny bit of worry in the back of his head but it just gets smaller and smaller. You always text him and if you happen to fall asleep, your mom or dad or even Harrison and Seb are always there to let Tom know everything is okay. By the last day, Tom didn’t need a reminder that you are going to be okay.

Besides the fact you’ve had to move your movie watching to a hospital bed, it felt as though everything was going right back to normal and both of you were so happy to just have that again, have each other and feel genuinely safe within each other. And it felt even better when you got the news you’d finally be discharged after twelve days.

“So,” Tom starts, helping you pull the blue and orange hoodie over your head while your legs dangled from your hospital bed. “What’re plans now?” There’s a strange grin tugging at his lips.

“Uh, I want to go home and see my kitten.” You laugh.

“Yeah, she’s missed ya.” Tom rolls his eyes, the grin not budging. “But, nah, I mean, now that you’re alright. What’s your plan?”

“That’s a random question for you.” You tease but Tom just rests his hands on either side of your thighs, putting his weight on the bed while leaning over you. “I don’t know.” You take a deep breath.

“Bullshit.” Tom calls your bluff. “You’ve a plan. I know you.”

You roll your eyes and suck on your teeth. “Is it cheesy if I say live?”

“Yeah,” Tom laughs, hanging his head for a few seconds. “It is.” He lifts his head back up to make eye contact with you.

“Okay,” You press your forehead to his. “I think...I might go ahead and go to school.”

“Yeah?” Tom whispers. “Your dad told me ‘bout NYU.”

“Of course he did.” You pull away and sigh. “Well, I have all the time in the world now so, it might not be NYU but I can go to a community college.”

“You should.” Tom nods in agreement.

“Okay, but what about you? You don’t want to work at my dad’s shop your entire life.”

Tom leans up, laughing. “Fuck no, I don’t. It’s been nice but no.” He licks his lips and shrugs. “But, ya know, before this I did, uh, some carpentry work so maybe try and get back into it. If you’re doing somethin’ you like, fuck it.”

“You know, my uncle is in carpentry. I can get you a job.” You smile wide.

“You’re fuckin’ with me right?” Tom shakes his head.

“No,” You giggle. “Sophie’s dad, he really is a carpenter with a really nice company and I can get you...another job.” You give him a playful smile.

“Alright.” Tom shrugs.

“What happened to not taking handouts?” You smirk as you cock your head slightly.

Tom moves himself between your legs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” You promise, kissing Tom’s cheek.

“Another job at the hands of you.” Tom chuckles and kisses your lips sweetly.

“It’s what I do.” You tease, moving your hands to his sides. “I owe you this anyway, you know?” Your voice goes quiet and Tom’s brows furrow.

“What d'ya mean?”

“If you were such an arrogant jerk-”

“Oh.” Tom laughs, “Here we go.”

“Shh, if you weren’t such an arrogant jerk who only cared about one-night stands and his reputation, I probably, ya know, would be dead. So, thanks for that.”

Tom shakes his head in disbelief but there’s love in his eyes. “Thanks for being a pain in my fuckin’ ass every damn day and for being a controlling  _ jerk _ ,” Tom’s eyes widen, mocking your wording. “Cause ya know, wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Your cheeks start to throb from smiling. “I love you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tom’s smile falls to one of pure adoration. “I know ya do.” Tom kisses you once more. “I love you, too.” He whispers into your mouth before deepening the kiss only for it be broken up with a knock on the door.

A nurse comes in with a wheelchair and your mom. “You’re all ready to go.” The nurse says.

“Finally.” You smile as Tom helps you into the wheelchair.

“I’ve already set up your room and living room for you as well as moved my bags in.” Your mom explains as you all start to for the elevator.

“You really don’t have to stay.” You say.

“I’m going to. I think Tom has done his job of watching you.” Your mom lets out a soft laugh as Tom’s cheeks turn red.

“Hey, I look after him and he does the same.” You defend.

“I meant it in a good way.” Your mom states. “Thank you for sticking by her, Tom.” Your mom looks to Tom with a wide smile.

“Of course.” Tom smiles back as you reach the elevator.

The elevator ride was filled with soft conversation as was the drive to your apartment. Your mom would be staying with you for a week while you continue to recover and after that, your dad would be popping in. You made it clear it wasn’t necessary knowing Tom would already be on making sure you were okay all the time as well as Harrison but your parents are your parents and want to help.

You appreciate it and after the first few days, you were happy your mom stayed. It allowed you to really spend time with her when you haven’t been able to much. You could talk and get completely caught up. Your mom made your favorite food and helped you get around. She didn’t mind when Tom came by and in fact, your mom was treating him more like family than just a boyfriend of her daughter.

Soon enough, your mom was heading back to Oregon and Tom, Harrison, and your dad were taking over for our recovery. And through that time, your dad grew incredibly fond of Tom. He got to see how Tom really cared for you even after the scary bit was over.

When people stay after it gets scary, they’re in for the long run. It’s not a joke, it’s not just a fond liking, it’s real and he can see it.

Tom started working with your uncle and he started making decent money with good hours. You saw a new light come to Tom’s eyes when he started working with your uncle and you couldn’t be happier for him. It felt like everything was falling into place. You didn’t have to question anything anymore.

Why did you have to get sick? Why did Tom have to come in when he did? Why did you fuck him over and why did he fuck you over? Why did you hurt each other? Why did all of this happen? None of the questions mattered because they were all answered.

Everything happens for a reason and something, it the reason doesn’t reveal itself for a few years and other times the reason is right there in neon lights. Everything happened for a reason and that reason happened to be because the two of you needed each other. You needed each other to heal and to make it. You’re both happy with each other and you can be happy without each other. What you’ve both managed to learn in the time you’ve been stuck recovering and Tom starting a new job was that you can both be happy without each other but neither of you want to be. Everything that’s lead you both to each other seemed like a little bit of a curse, especially in Tom’s eyes, but now it just feels like everything was meant to be. It’s like it was a blessing instead. It’s perfect and the two of you want to thank the universe for leading you to each other.

Everything became clearer as months went by and you made a full recovery. You got the all clear from Doctor Choi and you were setting out to start school in the upcoming months. You finished your book, finally and you even let Tom read bits of it. Tom offered to send it to his dad to help you fix anything that needed to be edited. Happy. That’s all you could think, you’re happy and you thought you couldn’t be happier.

“Aye,” Tom starts, hand on your knee and Ember curled up on his lap while you watched a movie. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you somethin’ but I wanted to wait until your doctor said you were okay.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, turning to face him. “What’s up?”

“Well, we live right next to each other.” Tom starts, his eyes darting away from yours.

“Yeah, yeah we do.” You nod.

“You’re here all the time or I’m at yours.”

“Mhm,” You gain a nervous smile, sensing where Tom was heading with this.

“Well, uh, was thinking...maybe at the end of the month when your lease is up, you could just, ya know…move in?” Tom asks and a smile dances onto his face.

“You hate cats and Ember and me are a package deal.” You tease, looking to the sleeping cat on Tom’s lap.

“But she likes me, pretty sure even likes me more than you.” Tom quips.

“Oh, now I’m not moving in. Sorry, nope.” You turn away, crossing your arms pretending to be offended.

“Sure,” Tom shrugs. “So, when are you gonna start moving your things in?” Tom questions.

“Nope. Sorry, can’t happen now.” You stick your nose up, looking at Tom from the corner of your eye.

Tom sticks out his bottom lip, pouting. “C’mon, love, can you really say no to this?” You look over at him, him giving you his best puppy dog expression.

“God, you’re annoyingly adorable.” You groan. “No, I can’t.” You laugh, leaning in and kissing him quickly. “But, really, are you sure?”

Tom nods softly. “Yeah, of course.  _ Please _ , move in with me.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

The next few weeks were spent with you and Tom slowly moving your things into Tom’s apartment. Harrison came by to help when Tom was at work. Seb came by when both boys were busy which you greatly appreciated. It was nice for you to talk to someone else and who understood that you needed to actually go through things and decide what to keep and throw away. Seb was actually quite good at helping and she’s an excellent packer. Plus, you felt like you were already in the friend phase with her right after getting out of the hospital. She was the one who cleaned your bathroom, fed your cat, and washed the infamous blue hoodie. If someone is cleaning up your blood, you’re kind of friends for life after that. By the time the end of the month had reached, everything was moved into Tom’s place or was moved back to your parents’ house.

It was a completely new experience for both you and Tom. Like Tom had said, you were always at each other’s places anyway but actually living together was completely different. You and Tom always woke up to each other and even after two months, the feeling didn’t completely wear off. You were still over the moon to actually be really living together. But, of course, that did come with one of your first real, relationship fights which was actually just over Tom not taking his boots off and tracking mud and grime through the house after you had just cleaned the floors. Tom had gone out, slamming the door behind him only to return half an hour later with flowers and an apology for getting so angry. You welcomed him with open arms and apologies spilling from your lips, promising to not get mad which only lead to Tom chuckling against your hair reminding you that you’re allowed to get angry with him. The fight lasted a maximum of an hour but it hurt for a little while. But, by the end of the night, you were back to where you were and everything was perfectly fine.

Another month had gone by and you were at school, on your way home when you got a call from Tom. You smiled as his name popped across your screen.

“Hey.” You chime.

“Okay, don’t be mad.” Tom said, almost hushed.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“Promise, you won’t be mad.”

“If I have to bail you out, Tom I swear to-”

“No, no, no, it’s nothing like that. But, you might be mad so you can’t be.”

“You told me I’m allowed to be angry.” You challenge.

“Yeah…” Tom trails off. “But……..not this time, alright? Please.”

‘Tom, what did you do? I won’t be home for another twenty minutes.” You plead.

“You’ll see.” Tom chuckles.

“Do I want to know?” You question with a sigh.

“Maybe.” Tom says and you can hear him smirking on the other end.

“It’s your day off. Did you try and cook or something and nearly burn down the apartment?”

“No!” Tom yells. “I’m not that bad a cook, darlin’.”

You snort. “Sure, you’re not.”

“I’m not!”

“You could burn water.” You quip.

“Hey, listen,” Tom starts making you burst into a fit of laughter. “One time.”

“You’re a dork.”

“You love me.” Tom retorts.

“I might not when I get home because you won’t tell me what you did!”

“It’s nothing bad!”

“Why would I be mad then?” You question.

“Uh, just, because.” Tom says. “Okay, see you when you get home. Love you, bye.” Tom says in a rush, hanging the phone up.

You pull the phone away from your head and stare at the screen dumbfounded. Tom sounds like he’s lost his mind. You’re not even concerned, just confused. He’s fine but apparently, you might be mad when you get home.

_ Home. _

A smile comes to your face, forgetting about whatever you could be mad about when you think about how nice it is to call it home. Living with Tom and it’s home. It still sends butterflies through your entire body and you can’t help but hope that feeling won’t completely go away.

You get home within in twenty minutes and the second you open the door, a grey dog comes running up to you.

“You got a dog!” You yell as Tom stands, staring at you with a guilty ‘oops’ face.

“Look how cute she is, love!” Tom chimes, moving over to you and the new dog.

“I thought dogs weren’t allowed?”

“She meets the weight limit.” Tom grins ear to ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Welcome home. This is Tessa.”

“Tom...you got a dog.”

“Yeah.” Tom nods, bending down and petting Tessa.

“I go to school...and come home to a dog. I go out with Harrison and I came home to a cat.  _ Why are you like this _ ?” You laugh, shutting the door and bending down with Tom.

“Surprise.” Tom smiles.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Tommy.”

“I know.” Tom responds. “Really, I’m sorry but she was cute and she needed someone to adopt her. Couldn’t just leave her, ya know?”

“Oh, I’m not mad.” You state quickly, rubbing around Tessa’s ears. “I just think you’re a little crazy.”

“You’re really not mad?” Tom questions with hopeful eyes.

“No, of course not. I love cats but I like dogs and  _ you _ love dogs.” You confirm while repeating similar words Tom had told you when he’d gotten you Ember.

“Thank God.” Tom lets out a sigh of relief. “Because I love her.”

“I know.” You lean into Tom. “What is she?”

“Staffie.” Tom answer proudly.

“Gonna get her a Spider-Man collar, too?” You tease.

“A whole costume.” Tom states, only slight sarcasm dripped through his words.

“You’re crazy.”

Tom laughs, pulling you into his side. “Mhm,” He hums pulling your mouth to his.

“But I love you.” You whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too.” Tom smiles against your lips.

Tessa made quick friends with Ember. Ember was just as curious about Tessa as Tessa was with her and you and Tom felt like proud parents where your kids were getting along. Truthfully, it was a sight about a week later. You had fallen asleep on Tom’s shoulder while Ember was sleeping on your lap. Tom had nodded off, his head on top of yours and Tessa’s head resting in Tom’s lap. The four of you made yourselves out to be quite comfortable and happy together.

And by the time it was almost the day for Tom and you to be dating for a full two years, neither of you could believe how far you’d come. Tom wanted to show how happy you made him and he planned a trip for you. He saved plenty of money and made sure you wouldn’t have school or work, which was quite easy since Tom had already talked it over with your parents. Your dad would be watching Ember and Tessa since Harrison and Seb were coming with Tom and you, Tom knowing how much Harrison and Seb have come to mean to you. After all this time, he still wants everything to be perfect and having Harrison and Seb with you to celebrate how far you’ve come while also being able to celebrate by yourselves is perfect. So, Tom surprised you with a trip to Florida to complete yet another thing on your Not A Bucket List. Disneyworld.

You visited everything you wanted at the Magic Kingdom on the very first day, Tom more or less just following you and getting nervous but falling endlessly in love with you all over again. Your face would light up with everything knew that you saw and you looked like the happiest person to finally be eating one of the Mickey Mouse shaped icecreams at Disney. The day progressed and Tom knew this was right. He was right and you were perfect. The sun was setting and Harrison and Seb were keeping heir distance.

Now or never.

“This has been one of the best days of my entire life.” You beam as Tom’s hand holds yours, the sun starting to come down as they’re walking a fair distance away from Cinderella’s castle.

“Yeah, mine, too.” Tom pulls you into him, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Um, hey,” Tom stops you, and the two of you face each other. “You remember forever ago, about the thing that was my mum’s?”

“Yeah, what about it?” You question, your heart softly sinking with the mention of something he doesn't talk about it.

“Okay, so,” Tom takes a deep breath, licking his lips and running a nervous hand through his hair before digging into his pocket and pulling out a box. “Uh, so, it was passed down quite a bit but ya know, I don’t have sisters so it was given to me, kind of.” Tom opens it to reveal a gold, heart-shaped locket.

“Okay…” You say hesitantly, your breath catching in your throay. Tom is more nervous than you’ve seen him in ages.

“You know I love you and you're my favorite person.” Tom says honestly. “I wanted to give it to you.” Tom takes it out of the box and has you turn around. He latches it around your neck before you turn back around, holding the little heart in your hand able to see it perfectly with where it dangles on you.

“Thanks, Tom. You-you don thave to.” You say, looking at the jewelry in awe.

“I want to…” Tom watches you. “You should open it.” Tom says, his heart beating so loud he swears you could hear it.

You eye him with confusion but do as he says. You open the locket and there’s a mini note written on two pieces of paper on either side of the heart. Your eyes widen and you just stare at the words for a few seconds.

_ Will you...marry me? _

“Tom?” You say looking up and Tom’s moving to one knee, catching another small black box Harrison was tossing to him. “Oh, you are doing this.” Your jaw hangs open.

“Yeah, I am.” Tom chuckles, cheeks redder than you’ve ever seen them. “Will you marry me?” Tom asks, eyes wide and he’s got that pleading look in his eyes just like he did when he asked you to like him and when he begged you to love him. But, this is different because he already knows the answer. It’s the same look but with hope. Every other time, he never expected you to ever like him, let alone love him but now, now he has faith that you’ll say yes and you’ll love him forever.

You smile softly, tears forming in your eyes. “Yes.” You say simply and Tom places the small but elegant ring on your finger before moving up to his feet quickly, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you like his life depended on it. Bystanders clapped and a few cheered and whistled, making you and Tom laugh in response. “You’re a cliche, Tommy.” You whisper against his lips.

“Yeah, but you said yes, so what’s that make you?” Tom gives you a sinister grin before kissing you once more.

“Yours.” Your words fall like like honey against Tom’s mouth. “Forever.”


End file.
